


Trust

by Cyberfairie



Series: Club Talan [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Butt Plugs, Caning, Dom/sub, Flogging, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Restraints, Shibari, Sounding, Spanking, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 41,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9607358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberfairie/pseuds/Cyberfairie
Summary: Dorian had heard about the large, commanding Dom who owned Club Talan, it was almost impossiblenotto have heard of The Iron Bull.  But when a poor choice in selecting a temporary Dom leads to an dubious first encounter will Dorian find himself in possession of a new Dom or out of a club membership?A 5+1 with 5 things Dorian learns about BDSM and one thing Bull learns.





	1. Safewords Exist for a Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important Note: Chapter one contains a BDSM scene that goes very bad, very quickly. While no safe word is uttered, it is obvious that the negotiated limits are ignored and the scene dips into dub-con for a few moments. Not only is this horrible BDSM etiquette but it could also be potentially triggering. If this is a concern for you, please skip Ch. 1, the rest of the work focuses on positive negotiations and consent.

Dorian aimlessly stirred his sparkling water with the tiny red straw as he wandered around the edges of the library taking in the enormous amount of books the club had actually collected.  The first time he’d stepped into the room he’d thought maybe they were just props, plastic or wood spines with no more substance than the paint used to label them but over the past several months he’d found that every single one of them was not only real but also labeled with a very formal, very pink label declaring them to be the property of ‘The Iron Bull’.

Plucking a narrow volume from the stack, Dorian padded silently on bare feet back to one of the overstuffed leather chairs that had been arranged in groups of two and three around the room and curled up in one near the fireplace.  Letting the fire’s warmth combat the chill of his bare chest, Dorian took a sip of his drink before setting it down on the Cherrywood side table and opening the book.  Chuffing softly, he was pleased to make it through the first few pages without finding any egregious errors and quickly lost himself in the history of Antiva during the Dragon Age.

“You are far too handsome to be abandoned here all alone.”

Dorian startled slightly, both at being addressed and by the fact that it had been done by someone with a thick Tevene accent.  In all the time he’d been a member of the club he’d only encountered two other ‘Vints and neither of them had been eager to to exchange more than names with him.  Looking up, Dorian found himself being perused rather intently by a man with dark hair and eyes, clothed in form fitting leather.  Ah, a dom then.  Or at least he fancied himself one.

There was something about the man that tugged at Dorian’s gut, but considering the fact that he was the first person in the club to show any interest in Dorian in weeks, Dorian smiled invitingly.  “It is hard to be abandoned when one has never been owned.”

The stranger’s thin lips curled up into a grin.  “Their loss is most definitely my gain.  Livius Erimond at your service.  Though a sub as exquisite as you may call me Dominus Erimond.”

“Dorian.”  Dorian took the hand he was offered, wincing slightly as his own hand was squeezed just a shade too hard to be friendly before it was released.

Erimond moved Dorian’s drink to the side and sat on the edge of the table, so close his knees rested against Dorian’s.  “So, tell me, how does someone as gorgeous as you remain unclaimed in a club like this?”

“It would seem that being a sub isn’t enough, one must also be from the south,” Dorian admitted, surprised by his own honesty.  Still, Erimond was a fellow ‘Vint, certainly if anyone could understand it would be him.  Though perhaps the subs here weren’t quite as particular as the doms, plenty of whom had approached Dorian only to change their minds once the small courtesy of conversation revealed his heritage.

“I assure you that won’t be a problem for me,” Erimond purred, reaching out to run a single finger around Dorian’s knee then down the length of calf covered by black silk.  “It has been some time since I’ve encountered a fellow ‘Vint in the lifestyle and to be honest you stand out like a blood orchid among spindleweed.”

Dorian laughed, his ego pleased by the blatant flattery.  “You are too kind, Sir.”

“The truth is not a kindness,” Erimond countered, his hand curling tightly around Dorian’s ankle.  “Most subs in the south are too…fragile for me.  Perhaps that is the problem with the doms also, they lack the skill to master a rare sub such as yourself.”

“By your theory then it would seem that their inadequacies have allowed us the chance to meet, Sir.”

Erimond choked out a laugh, small, harsh and quickly hidden by a thin smile.  “It would seem foolish then to squander such a chance meeting.  Would you be interested in a scene?”

Dorian’s quickly yelped ‘yes’ was both embarrassing and apparently just the right response given the predatory grin that spread across Erimond’s face.  Standing, he held a hand out to Dorian again.  “Shall we then?”

Dorian bit his lip anxiously, tempted to just go with the man but knowing there were details they should work out first.  The almost desperate need to submit warred with common sense, sense finally winning as he said, “Shouldn’t we go over my limits?”

Erimond huffed out a frustrated sigh, his hand dropping to his side as he peered down at Dorian, disappointment weighing so heavily in the room Dorian had to bite back a whimper.  Finally, with another annoyed huff, Erimond fell into the chair next to where Dorian sat.  “Fine, what are your hard limits?”

Dorian could have wept from relief, biting back a smile and peering up at Erimond through his lashes.  “Permanent marks...”

“No,” Erimond corrected, pointing to the floor next to his feet.  “If you insist upon doing this you can at least do it correctly.”

Something hot and liquid went through Dorian at the thought of kneeling for this man, and in a flurry of movement he uncurled himself from the chair and crossed to the spot Erimond was pointing at, gracefully dropping to his knees and laying his hands, palm up, on his thighs.  Erimond’s hand stroked over his head affectionately as he whispered, “That’s better.  Go on, sub.”

Dorian stuttered out a breath, his mind already beginning to go fuzzy as the hand caressing his head tightened in his curls demanding he look up into those dark, mysterious eyes.  Trying to remember where he’d been, Dorian whispered, “permanent marks, needles, blood, scat or watersports, breath play.”

“Fine,” Erimond agreed with a nod.  “Whips?”

A shiver coursed down Dorian’s spine.  “Yes.”

A slow grin curled Erimond’s lips.  “Sex?  Oral and penetrative?”

“With a condom, yes,” Dorian quickly agreed.  Kaffas, it had been so damn long…

“Safeword?”

“Maleficar.”

Erimond threw his head back and laughed.  “Oh, I’m going to enjoy you.”

This time when Erimond stood and held out his hand Dorian took it, trying to ignore the way his own shook as he laid it against Erimond’s palm and the way his stomach clenched.  It had to just be the anticipation of finding a dom who actually wanted to play with him.  Besides, they were in the club, even if Erimond ignored one of the things on Dorian’s list, there were monitors that would be there in the blink of an eye if they heard the word ‘red’ come out of any member’s mouth.  It was one of the reasons Dorian continued to put the not so insignificant cost of membership at the top of his budget every month just below rent and food.

He only realized he’d zoned out when Erimond’s free hand curled around his jaw, pinching it as he lifted Dorian’s head so that he was forced to see the displeasure in Erimond’s eyes and the scowl marring the man’s features.  “I expect you to keep you attention on me, pet.  If you can’t be bothered I can always go find another…”

“No, please,” Dorian begged, knowing it was poor form to interrupt any dom while he was speaking let alone one he’d just agreed to scene with.  Dropping his gaze, he stared at the small scar that ran along Erimond’s jaw.  “I’m sorry, Sir.  It won’t happen again, please…”

There was no warmth in the smile that curled Erimond’s lips.  “Alright, pet, alright.  Don’t panic,” the man drawled, his hand on Dorian’s chin shifting so that he could run his thumb along Dorian’s lips.  “Let’s go find a room and then we’ll see if we can’t put these lips of yours to better use.”

A shiver of true anticipation coursed through Dorian, the tip of his tongue darting out to lick at Erimond’s thumb.  “Yes, sir.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”  A little huff of laughter escaped the Dom, his fingers tightening against Dorian’s chin again.  “Now be a good pet and stay silent unless I tell you otherwise.”

Dorian nodded once, falling into step two paces behind the Dom as they left the quiet library and entered a short hallway that lead to the main member’s room of the club.  His eyes obediently on the floor, Dorian didn’t need to look around to know that there was a small bar, if you could call someplace that served no actual alcohol a bar, against the farthest wall to his right.  Ringing the bar were several high-topped tables while small loveseats were placed against the walls of the club.

This was where members would typically start their evening, most unattached subs gathering in small groups as they waited to catch the eye of one of the doms.  Alternatively, Dorian knew many scenes ended here also, sweaty, blissed out subs either snuggled up with or kneeling next to their doms as they quietly discussed the evening.

Rather than turn them that direction however, Erimond turned left, leading them through the center of the room where it was impossible for Dorian to miss the whispered comments being made about the pair of them.  Dorian wondered when him actually finding a partner had become such an unusual thing that it engendered such gossip despite the far more interesting events occurring on the public play stations they were passing.

“Ignore them, pet,” Erimond hissed under his breath, coming to a stop when they reached the arched doorway that led to the corridor of private rooms.  Dorian struggled to obey, Erimond’s hand settling possessively on his hip as the dom stated, “We’ll take room eleven.”

“Of course, if I might see your sub’s band please,” a female voice purred back, the accent making Dorian think it was probably Dalish though he didn’t dare lift his gaze to find out.

“You heard her, pet, your wrist please.”

Shit.  Of course.  Dorian startled slightly, lifting the hand that bore a numbered wristband.  The number and the band itself changed weekly, recorded with the front desk just so that they had an accurate count of members.  Tonight it was eight, the number stamped in black ink on the red band that indicated he was a sub.  A glance at Erimond’s wrist showed he wore the black band of a dom rather than the blue band that would have marked him a switch or the green that would indicate a guest.  Though no guest would be permitted through the doorway they were about to step through, the private rooms were members only.

The sudden pinch of nails against his hip and Erimond’s lowly growled ‘move, sub’ told Dorian he’d zoned out yet again.  Damn it, this was the problem when he hadn’t been taken down in too long, he was always so relieved to finally have the opportunity his mind began to drift on him far too soon.

Allowing Erimond to lead him, he hurried down the hallway and into the room the dom turned him towards.  The door had barely shut behind them when Dorian was spun around and slammed against it, Erimond’s body pinning him to its hard surface, his hand wrapping around Dorian’s throat tight enough he knew he’d have bruises.  Growling loudly, Erimond dipped his head down to whisper in Dorian’s ear, “What did I say about paying attention to me, slut?”

Dorian whimpered softly.  He preferred pet to slut but he’d been bad.  Swallowing hard, he had to force the words out past his bruised throat.  “You…”

Erimond’s fingers tightened, skirting the edges of Dorian’s hard limits without quite crossing them.  Sharp teeth nipped at his earlobe as Erimond ground his hip against Dorian’s cock, driving another whimper from him.  “Going to have to punish you for that one, pet.”

Dorian moaned softly at the endearment, Erimond taking advantage of the moment to press a hard kiss to Dorian’s lips, his tongue moving in immediately to claim Dorian’s mouth while his hand slid up from Dorian’s throat to bunch in his hair, tugging hard.  Determined not to make another mistake, Dorian stood still while Erimond bit at his lip, the pain soothed away by the man’s tongue before he plunged it back into Dorian’s mouth again, making it clear that Dorian was his to use as he wished.

Just the thought had another moan rumbling in Dorian’s throat and with a low growl of his own, Erimond released him, stepping back and wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.  “Strip, pet, then get over to the cross.”

Dorian quickly slid the black silk lounging pants he’d been wearing down over his hips, letting them pool to the ground and stepping out of them before bending at the waist to pick them up just in case Erimond was watching.  Dorian admitted to a moment’s disappointment when he received no indication that he’d been seen but quickly shrugged it off and folded his pants neatly, placing them on a folding chair next to the door.  Only then did he look up to find that the room Erimond had selected had been decorated to resemble an actual dungeon, the walls painted like grey stone with glinting steel manacles set high on the wall.  There was a spanking bench tucked into the corner of the room, but it was the large St. Andrews cross that dominated the space, its dark wood polished until it gleamed beneath the lights.  Stepping closer, Dorian couldn’t help but reach out and draw a reverent hand down the top half of one of the sides, his fingers slipping along the surface easily.

He startled when Erimond’s hand snapped around his wrist, the Dom snorting as he pulled Dorian’s arm up until Dorian was stretched up on his tiptoes before securing his wrist in the wide leather cuffs that had been attached to the cross by thick shackles.  Erimond wasted little time in securing Dorian’s other wrist before tapping at his hip, encouraging him to move his leg into position so he could attach matching ankle restraints leaving Dorian spread open and at his mercy.  Only then did Erimond move to the other side of the cross where he could look directly at Dorian.

Unlike his previous touches, this time the hand that cupped Dorian’s cheek was gentle, the dom encouraging Dorian to look up at him rather than demanding it, waiting to speak until Dorian complied.  “I’m afraid this won’t be very pleasant for you, pet, but this is supposed to be a punishment.  I do guarantee that by the time I’m through you’ll remember to keep you attention on me though and that’s what’s important now isn’t it?”

Dorian opened his mouth to respond, barely remembering in time that he’d been commanded to remain silent.  Shutting his mouth again he thought he saw a flash of approval in Erimond’s eyes when he nodded instead.

“Good,” the Dom practically purred, the back of his hand stroking down Dorian’s jawline once more before he took a step back.  “Now, behave for me pet and I’ll reward you later.  For now you have only to remain silent and take what I give you.”

Dorian shuddered as he watched Erimond’s figure disappear behind him, his body automatically tensing a he anticipated the first blow falling.  Reminding himself that fighting it would only make the pain greater, he forced his muscles to relax just as the first blow struck him across the shoulders, multiple thin blades of pain from what he knew had to be a flogger of some sort.  The pain there then gone, a strike meant to warm him up rather than inflict intense pain.  A second strike followed almost immediately, going back over the same stretch of skin before moving lower.

By the time Erimond had worked his way down to Dorian’s ass, Dorian had settled into the pattern, a little gasp escaping him when the flogger hit, a brief spark as the pain registered in his brain, the sting melting into his flesh and warming it before the process began again.  Even when Erimond began reversing his way back up Dorian’s body he barely registered that the sparks were becoming sharper, the sting more difficult to melt away.

Settling happily into a space where nothing existed outside this room, Dorian whimpered slightly when the next expected strike didn’t land only to freeze when he heard a disappointed growl from behind him.  Remembering Erimond’s order to remain silent, Dorian cringed as much as was possible in his stretched out position, his attention entirely on the quiet movements occurring behind him.

“Tsk tsk, such a disappointment,” Erimond drawled, his words washing over Dorian like ice water.  “I’m not certain I’ve ever run into a slut who couldn’t even manage to follow one instruction.”

Dorian bit his lip so hard he tasted blood, determined not to utter a sound.  Dorian waited what seemed like forever for the Dom to speak again, every cell in his being vibrating with anxiety as he waited for Erimond to just release him and say he was through.

Finally a heavy sigh cut through the room.  “I suppose I shall have to train you better, if only for the benefit of the next dom who gets stuck with you.”

Dorian flinched at the rebuke even as part of him soared to know that he wasn’t being released quite yet.  He could do this, he knew he could.  The thought had barely entered Dorian’s brain when his back exploded in pain, the severity of which forced the air from his lungs.  Before he’d even had time to draw another breath the cat hit again, this time across his right ass cheek, then almost immediately again across his left, his entire body drowning in pain.

“If you…cannot be trusted…not to speak,” Erimond growled, every few words punctuated by another harsh whip of leather across his body.  “I shall drive…the words…from you.”

Tears welled in Dorian’s eyes, falling unchecked down his cheeks as he struggled to try and get a breath into his lungs, his safeword clinging heavy to his tongue and yet…

“That’s it…slut…take it,” Erimond crowed, the blows raining down upon Dorian’s shoulder blades and ass too quickly to count, each strike of the whip feeling like it was taking Dorian’s skin with it when it pulled away.  

He had to safe word…he needed to safe word…

“That’s better, pet…”

Pet.  Dorian’s mind locked onto the word even as he felt his skin give, felt the cold creep of his own blood down his spine, his mouth open in a silent scream as the whip came down over the split skin, tearing it further and smearing the blood across his back.   _Maleficar._  The first line of blood dripped down his thigh.  He had only to say it…

“Even a slut…like you…can learn…”

 _Maleficar.  Maleficar.  Maleficar._  His mind screamed, his body ached, his heart feared being left alone again.  Wasn’t this better than sitting in the library night after night ignored?  His skin would heal, he would be a good boy.

The slamming of a door straining its hinges, a bellow of rage, something Dorian only belatedly recognized as a knotted cat o’ nine tails flying through the air next to his head before slamming against the wall hard enough to chip the plaster.  Another slam, this time softer, wetter and accompanied by a whimper and a growl, both of them foreign to Dorian.

“Chief!”

“Get ‘em the fuck out of my club, Krem, before I kill him.”

“What the…oh!  Shit, he’s a mess, Chief.  Want me to send Stitches?”

Dorian whimpered, his overloaded mind only vaguely processing the fact that he and Erimond were no longer alone, that the room was full of people, people who were staring at him and talking in that sad tone and where was Erimond?

“Shhhhh, it’s alright,” a strong, deep voice whispered behind him, hands that felt wider than the restraints fumbling at the buckles at his ankles.  A huge, grey hand appeared at Dorian’s waist, curling around him carefully and then the voice was back again, this time in his ear.  “Don’t even try to stand, I’ve got you.”

Dorian wondered what it said that he did as the man asked, letting his entire body weight slump into the man’s hold as first one then the other of his wrist restraints were released.  It was only once his arms dropped that Dorian realized how sore his wrists and shoulders were, but they were nothing compared to the way his back screamed when it came into contact with the stranger’s cloth covered chest.

“Shit, sorry, sorry,” the mountain of a man muttered.  “Not really sure there’s a way to move you without causing you pain so I’m just gonna…”

Then it was Dorian screaming, his body swung up into the man’s arms in a bridal carry, that eventually had him cradled against the stranger’s chest with his lower back and knees the points of contact between them.  Letting his eyes drift shut, Dorian focused on the sound of the man’s heart beating hard against his chest, letting his mind wander away from the pain his own body was in.

He was only distantly aware of the larger man’s steps eating up the length of the hallway where instead of going back out into the main room, he pushed through a door Dorian had never even noticed on the opposite wall.  Self-preservation kicked in long enough for Dorian to crack open an eye and see that they were in a bright stairwell, the man quickly taking the stairs two at a time until they reached the second floor where he moved them through another door and into another long hallway.  Unlike the ornately decorated one downstairs however, this hallway could have belonged to any office building anywhere in Thedas.  Standard off white walls interrupted only by boring beige carpets.

Rather than go down the hallway however, the man walked across into a room not quite as large as the main private area downstairs, this one filled with an assortment of crates and packing boxes that signaled it was obviously not in use.  The man walked through the crowded room as though he owned it, bursting through a door on the far side into a hallway that was much more in keeping with the club's decor.  Storming down the length of hardwood, each step echoing in the small space, he took Dorian through the last door on the right, into an immaculately clean office.

Also keeping with the decor downstairs, the walls were covered in rich Cherrywood paneling, thick Antivan rugs covering the dark wood floors and rich red leather furniture was scattered to make several sitting areas in the huge room.  The man moved towards one of the large, tufted couches, awkwardly hesitating when he reached it.

“Shit, not sure what’s going to be best for you here.  I mean I can lay you down but that’s gonna sting…or I can help you stand so you can lay down on your stomach.”

“Yes, please, the second,” Dorian whispered against the man’s throat, absently noting the shiver that coursed through the huge man.

He felt the man nod.  “Alright then, easy does it…let me help you,” the man encouraged, releasing Dorian’s legs but keeping a supportive grip on his waist as Dorian’s feet touched the ground.  Ignoring the sharp flare of pain that shot down his legs, Dorian forced himself to take a couple of hesitant steps, moving down the length of the couch until he knew that he was in a good position to lay down without having to reposition himself several times.

Bracing a knee on the couch, Dorian hesitated when the man gripped him tighter.  “Uhmmm, wait just a moment,” the man whispered, reaching past Dorian to pull a thin blanket off the back of the couch and spread it out.  “Wouldn’t want your skin sticking.”

Dorian huffed out a laugh, thinking that at this point that was the least of his concerns.  Still, it was a nice gesture and one he appreciated all the more when he was finally stretched out with the soft fabric laying against his cheek.  It was only then that he was able to look up for the first time and see his savior and…vishante kaffas, it couldn’t be.

Groaning, Dorian closed his eyes and prayed the Maker just killed him now.  Kaffas, he should have known from the beginning.  There weren’t a lot of grey skinned men the size of a mountain who belonged to the club, let alone one who would be so confident moving through the club’s private areas.  In fact, Dorian could only think of one…

“Hey there, Big Guy, you alright?”  The gently spoken words washed over Dorian like a balm, the soft brush of a finger pushing the hair out of his eyes better than any poultice.  “Stitches is on his way but in the meantime I’d really like it if you opened those pretty eyes for me, handsome.”

Dorian almost hoped he’d open his eyes to find out that he was wrong, but nope, the moment he could see only one man filled his vision.  The Iron Bull.  Owner and manager for Club Talan.  Not to mention one of the best doms in Thedas, at least according to most of the subs in the club.  Most of the doms too for that matter.

“There you are,” Bull chuckled, his one eye regarding Dorian with such concern it made his heart stutter.  “I’m The Iron Bull, can you tell me your name, handsome?”

“Dorian…” Dorian started, having to swallow hard before continuing.  “Dorian Pavus.”

“And I see you’re a member here,” Bull continued, his fingers brushing against Dorian’s band.  “How is it I’ve never seen you before?”

 _Because you’ve never looked._ Dorian bit back the wash of pain the thought caused, blinking several times to hold back the tears that suddenly threatened.  It wasn’t Bull’s fault that Dorian’s Tevinter origin had worked against him so many times he’d eventually stopped frequenting any area of the club except the library, wiling away the hours there quietly, content to simply be surrounded by things that reminded him of home and by the occasional conversation that would drift to him from others who might seek refuge there also.  Once there had even…

“Hey, hey, none of that,” Bull whispered, swiping his thumb over a tear Dorian hadn’t even been aware of shedding.

Before Dorian could become completely mortified at the thought of crying all over the man who’d rescued him, there was a knock at the door and Bull was growling, “Who is it?”

“Stitches, Chief.  Krem said…”

“Yeah, yeah, get in here,” Bull rumbled, his attention never wavering from Dorian.  “Stitches is the best there is, he’ll be able to tell us if we need to get you to a hospital…”

“No…” Dorian whispered, horrified at just the thought of someone not in the lifestyle seeing him this way.  Shit, he wasn’t even certain he was going to be able to walk past the people here who _were_ in the lifestyle without wanting to melt into the floor.  Kaffas, what had he been thinking?

“Hey now, stay with me,” Bull whispered, one finger stroking across Dorian’s cheek.  “We’ll do everything possible to keep that from happening but I’m not going to have you end up scarred or with an infection just to save you your pride.”

Dorian wanted to tell him that sometimes pride was all he had left, but before he could make his mouth form the words Bull was being shoved to the side by a dark-skinned man with short cropped hair and kind eyes that made Dorian feel better just looking into them.

“Out of the way, Chief, let me take a look at him,” the man drawled, pulling on a pair of gloves.  “Name’s Stitches.  Well, actually it’s William but the Chief here has a name for everyone and it’s easier to just go along with him than have him come up with something worse.  Anyway, what’s yours?”

Dorian was surprised to find himself biting back a grin.  “Dorian.”

“Well, Dorian, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that that asshole did a number on you.  I’m assuming you didn’t agree to let him do this to you…”  Stitches broke off as a low growl rumbled in Bull’s chest, one that only stopped when Stitches elbowed the man next to him before beginning to gently prod at Dorian’s back.  “Yeah, yeah, Chief, we all know the club rules, no knife play, no blood, I’m just saying…”

Dorian winced as Stitches poked at one of the deeper wounds, his skin pulling and blood again starting to weep from the wound.  “Shit, Chief get in my bag and get me some gauze.”

Bull had just handed the requested gauze off when the door opened once again, a man Dorian did know popping his head in through the crack.  “Hey, Chief, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Bull sighed and Dorian felt a gentle touch at his ankle before Bull asked, “You ok if I step out for a minute, Dorian?”

He told himself that The Iron Bull was just being kind because he’d been injured in his club.  That it was no more than he’d do for anyone who managed to find themselves in this position, but the gentle swipe of Bull’s thumb across his ankle bone made him wish it was something more.  Not trusting himself to speak he nodded his head, watching as Bull straightened and made his way across the office before settling back down and letting his eyes slip shut.

“Chief’s a good man,” Stitches said in response to Dorian’s soft sigh.  “He’ll take care of the asshole that did this, I’m sure of it.  Bastard will be lucky if he’s able to find a club in all of Thedas that will take him after this.”

Dorian grunted a little when Stitches fingers encountered another deep gash but otherwise the room fell silent as the medic, or doctor, honestly Dorian wasn’t certain which, continued his thorough exam of Dorian’s wounds.  Only once every one of them had been prodded did Stitches sit back on his heels and say, “Ok, so I’m not gonna lie, a couple of those are bad and may end up scarring but I don’t see a reason for you to have to go to the hospital if you’d rather avoid it.  I can put some temporary stitches on them and give you a prescription for some antibiotics and some cream that you’ll want to apply at least three times a day until your skin’s healed but you should be ok.”

He wondered if it was vain to be thankful he wasn’t going to be badly scarred.  “Thank you.”

“Hey, no thanks needed.  I know the Chief is feeling guilty that it escalated to such a point before he caught it, especially since he was the dungeon monitor in the private rooms tonight.  Lay still and let me get the worst of these bandaged and some cream put on the rest then I’ll go check with the Chief about your clothes.”

Dorian hadn’t even been aware of the door opening again until it was forcefully shut again, Bull’s deep voice rumbling, “No need, Stitches, I’ve got them right here.”

Dorian frowned instinctively at the change in The Iron Bull’s tone and apparently he wasn’t the only one who noticed as Stitches’ hands stilled against him.  “Chief?”

“I’m fine,” Bull practically growled.  “Just need to talk to Messere Pavus here after you’re through.”

Dorian shivered as the temperature in the room seemed to drop several points, the atmosphere growing tense as The Iron Bull stormed past the pair before dropping into a chair at the far side of the room.  Dorian swallowed hard as he heard the distinct sound of papers being moved around, Stitches hands remaining still against his back for several long minutes before quietly resuming his bandaging.

By the time Stitches, sat back again the tension was so thick Dorian could have cut it with a knife.  The medic softly spoken words seeming to echo through the room.  “You’re finished.  I’ll leave the cream and prescription at the front desk for you.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” Stitches whispered, gripping Dorian’s shoulder tightly for a moment before standing and walking out of the room without another word.

Dorian allowed himself a moment to calm his thoughts, telling himself it was unlikely that whatever had pissed off The Iron Bull would result in him striking Dorian, especially after he’d just allowed his medic to bandage him up.  Blowing out a long slow breath he pushed up off the couch, every movement bringing with it a fresh surge of pain that threatened to take him to his knees.  In the end it was that pride Bull had spoken of that got him upright and moving across the room to where Dorian could now see that Bull was sitting behind an enormous desk, its surface carved from a single piece of pink dawnstone.

Dorian came to a stop a few feet away, waiting patiently while Bull continued to read the papers in his hands, ignoring Dorian entirely until he finally reached the last page, carefully stacking the pages and setting them to the side before looking up.  The change in the large man drew a gasp from Dorian, that one concerned grey eye now flinty, his expression hard, lips set in a firm, unyielding line.

Not willing to make the situation worse, Dorian forced himself to remain silent as The Iron Bull inspected him dispassionately, only belatedly realizing that he was still completely naked.  With a nod toward the chair to Dorian’s right Bull stated, “Get dressed.”

Only then did Dorian dare to look away from Bull, finding his black lounging pants laying on top of the white dress shirt and wool trousers he’d been wearing when he stepped into the club.  Even his polished black dress shoes and socks were in the pile.

Discarding the lounging pants as a bad idea, Dorian dressed in the rest as quickly as possible, wincing when heavy wool pulled tight across his ass and again when he shrugged into his dress shirt.  He could only hope he wasn’t reopening wounds that would stain the shirt, it was one of his favorites.  Once he had slipped his feet into his shoes he refolded the lounging pants and laid them back on the chair, buying himself an extra moment before having to turn and reface The Iron Bull.

“I think they’re as folded as they’re going to get,” Bull drawled, the hint of amusement in his tone giving Dorian hope until he turned to find Bull’s features still etched in stone.  This time Bull didn’t make him wait, launching into an explanation immediately.  “I only have one question for you and I expect you to answer me honestly.”

Dorian nodded, forcing himself not to flinch when Bull’s hand slammed down on top of the stack of papers he’d been perusing earlier.  “These are the forms you signed when you joined the club.  In addition to the standard information and the health questionnaire there was one page that clearly stated the club’s red, yellow and green safe word policy as well as asking you for a specific safe word of your own.  I believe yours is maleficar,” Bull stated, his eyes telling Dorian no response was needed yet.  “Interesting choice for a ‘Vint and one Erimond insists you didn’t use.  So I’ll ask you Dorian.  Did you safe word?”

Dorian knew there was air in his lungs but he couldn’t seem to make even the slightest bit flow past his lips.  Not with Bull glaring at him in a way that said the Dom already knew the truth, his eyes just daring Dorian to lie.  “No.”

Bull nodded, his attention immediately moving from Dorian to his desk where he opened a drawer and pulled out a large folder, flipping it open to display a row of checks.  Picking up a pen Bull didn’t hesitate to begin filling one out, his letters small and neat in direct contrast to the flourish he put on his signature before tearing the check carefully from the book and holding it out to Dorian.  “You’ll find the check is for the complete amount of your annual membership which you can now consider revoked.”

Dorian stood frozen, his mind insisting that he reach out and take the check then leave with the minimum of fuss, but he couldn’t seem to make his body respond.  Surprisingly it was his lungs that decided to work first.  “You can’t…”

Bull’s hand dropped to the desktop, check still gripped tightly in his fingers.  “Oh, I assure you I can,” he growled, forcing his chair as close to the desk as possible as though it alone prevented him from leaping over the desk and grabbing ahold of Dorian.  “This club exists because every member in it knows the rules and agrees to follow them.  For doms that means knowing when to stop even if your sub is so far gone they can’t tell you and for subs it means using their safe word when a scene has gotten too intense or has passed the boundaries defined by the club.  This club has a no blood policy, you knew that, you signed the paperwork stating you knew that and still you let that…that bastard tear you apart without even trying to stop it.”

The check crumbled in Bull’s grip, the huge man’s fist slamming against the desktop again so hard Dorian half expected the dawnstone to shatter.  Bull closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it before looking once again at Dorian.  “I take the safety of every member of my club seriously and I will not chance retaining a member who is not able to abide by the rules.  I’m sorry, but your reluctance to protect yourself is a liability this club cannot afford.”

“The Iron Bull, please,” Dorian cried, surprised to find himself falling to his knees before the desk.  “Please, you can’t do this, I need this club.  I don’t have to scene, I can just visit, watch, just please don’t take this away from me.”

“Dorian…”  Bull rumbled warningly, but once started, Dorian found it impossible to start.

“I know I should have safe worded, I swear I was thinking about it when you stopped things but it had been so long and…”

“Dorian…”

“I needed it so badly and no one is interested in having a scene with me because I’m from Tevinter and then he was there and he didn’t care and…”

“ _Dorian!_ ”

Dorian startled, surprised to find himself staring at The Iron Bull’s booted feet rather than at the bottom of the desk.  Shame filled him at the realization that he was crying, begging and crying, kaffas, what happened to that pride he’d been talking about.

“Dorian, look at me.”  The Iron Bull’s voice was back to that smooth whiskey tone he’d first used and Dorian was helpless to do anything but what he’d asked.  Bull’s piercing gaze this time held a hint of understanding.  “How long has it been?”

Dorian shrugged, wincing as the motion pulled at his wounds.  “I volunteered for a wax demonstration a couple of months ago but aside from that, six months.”

Bull’s eye widened in surprise, the huge qunari actually rocking back on his heels.  “Shit, Dorian…”

“It’s alright.  I feel better just being here,” Dorian whispered, his chin dropping so he didn’t have to lie directly to Bull’s face.  Because it wasn’t ‘alright’, it wasn’t even close but it was better than sitting alone in his small apartment near the university or having to fight off hands-y drunks in a bar.

The warmth of Bull’s hand gently cupping the side of his face made Dorian’s eyes drop shut as he instinctively nuzzled closer, his actions pulling a little huff of laughter from Bull before he tipped Dorian’s head up once more.  “It’s not alright, Dorian.  It’s not alright in the slightest and I’m sorry that myself or one of the staff didn’t notice before now.”

Dorian tried to stamp down the little flicker of hope that had lit in his chest, his words hesitantly stuttered, “Does that mean…”

“It means you can stay for now…”

Sweet blessed Andraste.

“…if you agree to commit time to learning more about safe practices and why you can’t just let someone walk all over your hard limits.  Which is why for the next five Fridays…”

Yes, yes, anything, anything if he can stay…

“…I’ll expect you to report to my office so that we can work on teaching just what a safe scene entails.”

Wait a minute, did he just…

“Dorian?  Are you listening?”

There was that hint of irritation again, the one that made Dorian want to bow at Bull’s feet and beg him to forgive him, anything would be better than that tone.  “Yes, yes, I heard you.  Five sessions, every Friday.  I’ll be here, I swear.”

Bull’s lip curled up, his features softening as he shook his head slowly.  “Why do I feel like you’re going to be a handful?”

Dorian blushed, tilting his head so he could look up at Bull through his lashes.  “Only in the best way I hope.”

Bull’s laugh was deep and true, his whole body shaking from it as he reached out a hand to help Dorian up before tilting his head down and whispering in Dorian’s ear, “Next Friday, nine pm.  Don’t be late.”


	2. Not All Submission Includes Whips

By the time Friday came, Dorian had almost convinced himself that he was remembering it wrong.  That what The Iron Bull had meant was that the club was hosting some sort of BDSM 101 class and he expected Dorian to take part in it.  Or maybe he’d actually meant what he said and Dorian would be expected to scene with one of the other staff members because really, The Iron Bull was the owner of the most exclusive BDSM club in Skyhold and quite possibly all of Thedas, why would he of all people be willing to take Dorian on as a sub, even for a limited contract?

And still, even after telling himself all these things over and over again through the course of the week, when he walked up the set of stairs that led to The Iron Bull’s office, he felt a frisson of excitement shoot down his spine.  Kaffas, it was foolish to be this excited and yet…

Dorian moved down the short hallway to the first door on the left.  Taking a deep breath, he looked at his watch, waiting until the minute hand hit the twelve to knock once.

The response was immediate, Bull’s deep voice bellowing, “Come in.”

Another shiver of excitement coursed through Dorian as he opened the door and stepped inside, only to immediately freeze at the sight of The Iron Bull leaning against the corner of his desk.  Kaffas, how had Dorian managed to miss just how handsome Bull was?  Tonight he was wearing a dark purple dress shirt, open at the collar and sleeves turned up so that his broad, muscular forearms were on display. Charcoal grey wool slacks and black dress shoes completed the look which would have been at home in any boardroom and yet…

Fasta vass, the man positively oozed power and Dorian couldn’t help but think about Erimond. How hard that man had worked to make himself look like a dom, while Bull demanded Dorian’s submission without even saying a word.  It took work not to fall to his knees when Bull crossed his arms over his chest and smirked, “You gonna stand there all night?”

Oh, shit, was he actually still in the doorway staring at Bull as though he were, well, a prime cut of beef?  Cheeks flushing, Dorian squeaked as he moved fully into the room and let the door close behind him, his chin dropping towards his chest, as he carefully watched the spot of floor right in front of Bull.  Even without looking, he could feel Bull’s eyes on him when he crossed the room though the Dom waited to speak again until Dorian had come to a stop directly in front of him.

Raising a hand, Bull curled a finger under Dorian’s chin, tipping his head up until he could look him in the eye.  “I prefer my subs to look at me,” Bull drawled, the hint of a smile curling his lips.  “I want to see the moment when you yield, when you accept that for however long the scene lasts, I own you.”

“Kaffas.”  Dorian whispered, his legs threatening to turn to jelly then to lead a moment later when The Iron Bull’s expression hardened, his fingertips closing bitingly around Dorian’s jaw.

“I expect my subs to have more respect than to curse in front of me.”

Dorian shivered, did he dare hope that meant?  Before he could get too lost in his own thoughts he saw Bull raise a brow and realized the Dom was waiting for an answer.  “Yes, Sir.”

“That’s better,” Bull nodded, releasing Dorian’s chin and leaning back against the desk again.  “How is your back?  And don’t lie, I’ll see for myself in a moment.”

Dorian flushed again because alright, he might have been thinking of playing down his injuries.  “Most of the bruising is gone, but I still have some scabbing and light marks from where he opened me up,” Dorian admitted, having to force himself not to drop his head as he whispered his biggest concern.  “I’m not certain that I could take a whip tonight.”

He was suddenly glad he hadn’t looked away when Bull smiled at him as if he’d just handed Bull the moon.  “Thank you for being honest,” Bull said, pride in Dorian shining through in his voice.  “I had no intention of beating you tonight, though. I am fully capable of dominating you without resorting to a whip.”

The snort escaped Dorian before he could think to hold it back and he froze, concerned that Bull would think he was back talking, but the huge dom just laughed.

“Don’t believe me, huh?” Bull chuckled, his grin turning decidedly wicked.  “You will.”

Dorian had to swallow hard past the knot in his throat.  “Yes, Sir.”

Another chuckle from the Dom and then he pushed off the desk, slipping around Dorian without touching him and moving back behind his desk.  “Now, I’ve looked over your hard limits, are there any that you want to change?”

“No, Sir.”

“Safe word?”

“Maleficar.”

“Good, and you are still ok with penetration?”

Dorian swallowed hard again, his attention automatically going to Bull’s crotch and the sizeable bulge that already existed there.  Apparently following Dorian’s line of thought, Bull shook his head.  “No, I don’t mean me,” he chuckled, reaching into the cabinet behind his desk and turning back to face Dorian with a plastic package containing a rather large, blue butt plug.

Returning to his spot at the corner of the desk, Bull held the package in his palm, letting Dorian get a good look and sweet Andraste was that…  

“Are you ok with this?”

Dorian’s eyes widened when he realized the butt plug was indeed vibrating.  Kaffas, what could The Iron Bull be planning?  Dorian’s mind was already pondering several different options, all of them good but none of them seeming too intense, as he nodded his approval.

“I need your words, Dorian,” Bull rumbled, that voice of his wrapping around Dorian like a blanket.

“Yes, yes, of course, but I don’t see…”

Bull cuts off his words with a single, broad finger laid across Dorian’s lips.  “You will.  Now, strip down to your briefs.  You may lay your clothes on the chair, then bend over the desk.”

Dorian couldn’t get his hands on his buttons fast enough, his fingers shaking so badly it took him three tries to get the first one free.  Kaffas, he hadn’t been so eager to obey an order in forever, certainly not since…no, better not to think about him right now.  Not when he had The Iron Bull watching him, one thick dark brow arched pointedly.  Dorian belated realized he’d stopped unbuttoning when his mind started to drift and he hurriedly returned to his task, freeing the last buttons and removing his shirt before folding it neatly and laying it in the middle of the chair Bull had indicated.  His shoes were next, quickly tucked beneath the chair with his socks in the toes.  It was only as he was bending over to pick his pants up off the floor that he wondered if he should have made more of a show of it.  He normally would have, but Bull didn’t ask and he’d been so impatient to move on…

Laying his pants neatly on top of his shirt, Dorian turned to look at The Iron Bull and found him watching him appraisingly, the slight curl to his lips telling Dorian he liked what he saw.   Straightening, Bull stepped to the side of the desk and motioned for Dorian to take his place before it.  Butterflies took flight in Dorian’s stomach as he looked at that wide expanse of dawnstone, the reality finally sinking in that this was happening.  He was actually going to find out first hand just how The Iron Bull was as a dom.   _Him_ , Dorian Pavus.

“Dorian…” Bull drug out each syllable, that brow of his arching even further and with a little squeak that he would later deny, Dorian leapt the last foot to the desk, folding his body over it and grasping the far edge with the tips of his fingers.

A shiver coursed down his spine when his chest came in contact with the cold stone then again a moment later when The Iron Bull ran a single finger down the center of Dorian’s spine.  “Beautiful,” Bull whispered, his fingers tapping at the side of Dorian’s thigh.  “Spread.”

He complied instantly, moaning softly as Bull’s huge hands curled all the way around his hips, his thumbs slipping beneath the band of Dorian’s briefs and twisting in them, sliding them slowly over the globes of Dorian’s ass and halfway down his thighs before stepping back.  “Fucking gorgeous,” Bull whispered, moving back to the other side of the desk and pulling something else out of the cabinet he’d been in earlier.

Dorian didn’t have to wait long to find out what it was, a thin stream of cold lube running down his crack the moment Bull stepped back into position.  Bull’s thumb soon followed the same path as the lube, pressing against Dorian’s hole but not yet slipping in before continuing down to the sensitive patch of skin behind Dorian’s balls and back up again.

Dorian bit back a moan the third time Bull passed over his hole, his body shifting impatiently as he waited for Bull to finally push into him.  Dorian slid his legs further apart to give Bull better access but the dom just growled and pinched him on the hip hard enough to sting.  “Stay still.”

A soft whimper echoed through the room but Dorian quieted his hips, his fingers curling tight around the edge of the desk when Bull slid his thumb past his hole again.  Fasta vass, he was driving him mad, the feather light touches against his perineum only heightening the fact that Bull was toying with him.  With difficulty, he managed to keep himself still as Bull poured more lube onto his hole, his thumb rubbing with increasingly firm circles until finally the tip slipped inside.

Dorian groaned, the sensation electric as Bull pulled out and repeated the entire process once then twice more, never more than just the tip of his thumb entering Dorian when he wanted so much more.  “Please…”

“So greedy,” Bull chided, his tone fond as he finally pushed into Dorian, his thumb stretching the tight ring of muscle and drawing a moan from Dorian before pulling it out and circling it around the puffy edges again.  Over and over Bull speared his thumb into Dorian, thrusting a couple of times before pulling back, every withdraw drawing a whimper of protest from Dorian.

“That’s it, so good, just taking what I give you,” Bull crooned, his voice low and deep as he trailed two fingers through the lube that had accumulated behind Dorian’s balls before sliding them slowly into him.  A low keen Dorian was hardly aware of making echoed through the room as Bull scissored his fingers, stretching his hole before pulling them almost all the way out and thrusting them back in, brushing the dense bundle of nerves that had Dorian crying out.

“Like that, do you?” Bull chuckled, repeating the same process over and over while Dorian struggled to keep his body still despite the fact his cock was so hard it ached, his balls high and tight as Bull worked a third finger into the mix.

“Please, please, please,” Dorian begged, the word falling from his lips over and over as Bull gave up scissoring his fingers in favor of slamming them into Dorian’s prostate as he pistoned them in and out.  He felt the precome leaking from his cock spreading on the desktop, rubbing cold against his belly as Bull continued to work at him, a steady stream of praise coming from the Dom.

“So hot and tight, makes me want to say fuck it and slide into you, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?  Yeah, you would, listen to you, so needy…but staying still just like I told you…such a good boy, Dorian…so responsive…just wait…”   The last was whispered as Bull pulled his fingers out of Dorian, the back of his hand trailing over the curve of Dorian’s ass before falling away.  Suddenly cold, Dorian whined, forcing himself to stay still though he wanted desperately to know what he’d done to make Bull move away.

The thought was barely through Dorian’s head before he heard the telltale sound of water running and then Bull was back, his still damp hand trailing across Dorian’s back. “Shit, sorry, been a long time since a sub got me so distracted I almost forgot the plan,” Bull chuckled, a hint of self-recrimination in his voice.

“Wasn’t complaining,” Dorian whispered, daring a little shrug.

“Quiet, you,” Bull chuckled, pinching Dorian's hip again.  “Now be a good sub and spread yourself for me.”

Dorian groaned.  Kaffas, the man couldn’t just say things like that, not when he’d been laughing two seconds before.  Another tap to the hip said Bull meant now not later and Dorian quickly reached behind him, pulling his cheeks apart with both hands as something much thicker than Bull’s finger nudged at his hole.  Biting his lip, Dorian tried to relax and push out slightly, feeling the burn as the plug slid into him despite Bull’s thorough preparation.

“Almost there,” Bull encouraged, cool lube once again striking his ass as Bull twisted the plug while continuing to push it into Dorian until with a little plop, it seated fully in his ass.  Bull pushed at the base, twisting it once more before releasing it and reaching down to pull Dorian’s briefs back up over his ass.  “Good boy,” Bull whispered, methodically tucking Dorian’s dick back into his briefs before slipping his hand under Dorian’s chest and pulling him upright, his back firm against Bull’s broad chest.

Bull’s arms wrapped around Dorian, one low around his waist and the other on his chest, Bull’s hand spread wide over his heart making Dorian feel completely enveloped in the larger man.  Fasta vass, it wasn’t like Dorian was a small man to start with but now, the back of his head pressing against Bull’ shoulder, he felt positively tiny…and protected.  Then Bull began to speak, his breath hot against Dorian’s ear, and the only thing Dorian felt was owned.

“So, here’s what’s going to happen.  As much as I’d like to stay here and play with you all night, I have a club to run and I need to check in with everyone on the floor…

_Vishante kaffas, certainly Bull wasn’t saying what he thought he was saying…_

“Dorian, calm yourself,” Bull grumbled, his hand slipping up Dorian’s chest to rest against his collarbone.  The Dom waited until Dorian stilled beneath him to continue.  “Better.  Now, because I’m kind, I’m going to let you keep these,” the hand at Dorian’s waist moved, thumb pulling at the elastic of Dorian’s briefs before letting it snap back against Dorian’s skin.  Chuckling at Dorian’s little gasp, Bull continued.  “Being clothed is a privilege that I can just as easily take away if you choose to disobey.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian whispered, a shiver wracking his body when he realized he was indeed going to be paraded around the club.

“All you have to do is follow me and remain quiet.  Think you can manage that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” Bull chuffed huskily, his teeth nipping at Dorian’s ear before letting him go and turning towards the door.  “Follow.”

Dorian fell into step two paces behind Bull, making certain to stick to his right side so that Bull could see him at a glance.  It took effort to keep his eyes focused on Bull’s wide, firm shoulders rather than the floor, but because he was watching it was easier to know when to stop the moment Bull reached the door.  Dorian was less prepared to stop again just two steps later as Bull paused in the doorway.  “Oh, and Dorian, you do not have permission to come.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian answered, the words spoken by rote even though Dorian had no clue why Bull had felt it necessary to issue that command.  Yes, the plug was large and rubbed against his prostate in a tempting manner with every step that Dorian took, but it wasn’t likely to arouse Dorian enough that he’d come from it.

Following Bull down the stairs, and yes, those had Dorian concentrating on ignoring the pull of the plug at his hole, but still he felt in control when they finally reached the bottom and Bull strode straight for the door Dorian knew opened just to the left of the bar in the main room.  A room which was no doubt full of people at this time on a Friday night.

Drawing in a deep breath, Dorian forced himself to stay within two steps of Bull, reminding himself that he need only focus on the way Bull’s muscles moved beneath the expanse of purple fabric.  No one else existed for him right now, no one’s opinion mattered but Bull’s. Bull wanted him following.  A sense of peace settled over Dorian as he followed the Dom to the bar, Bull coming to a stop and reaching a hand out to the dwarf behind the counter.

“How’re things tonight, Rocky?” Dorian heard Bull ask, the response lost in his own gasp as the plug that was pressed firmly against his prostate began to vibrate, each twitch traveling straight to his cock until it pressed, firm and aching, against his briefs, the head threatening to press over the band of elastic.  The first bead of precome gathered in his slit, sliding between his cock and his belly, forcing Dorian to close his eyes and breathe deeply to stop himself from coming right then and there.  A shiver raced down his spine as he suddenly realized just what Bull’s words earlier had meant…and just what the Dom had planned.

“Dorian?”

Eyes flying open, Dorian found Bull staring at him, an amused smile on his face though Dorian read nothing but heat in his eye and fuck if that didn’t make Dorian’s cock twitch harder.  They stared at each other for several long moments, Bull’s expression daring Dorian to disobey him while Dorian was certain his own eyes were pleading for the release that was threatening.  Eventually, when Bull’s expression remained unrelenting, Dorian drew in a long slow breath, his nostrils flaring, and forced himself to calm.

“Good boy,” Bull whispered, his expression warming.  “Follow.”

Before he could take his first step the vibrator shut off as suddenly as it started, Dorian’s shoulders rounding slightly in relief as he turned to follow Bull across the club towards the public play stations.  Dorian drew in a sharp breath as Bull paused before the first one, greeting a dom Dorian couldn’t see before quickly moving towards the next.  Each pause made Dorian twitch, his muscles tightening in anticipation of the vibration that never happened only to relax again when Bull inevitably moved on.  Dorian had just started to think Bull wasn’t going to turn it on again when he stepped up to the last station and Dorian saw another of The Iron Bull’s employees standing there.  He barely had time to gasp before the vibrator turned on.

Unlike before, this time the vibrator was turned on so low Dorian was able to follow most of the conversation between Bull and Skinner as they discussed Skinner’s planned demonstration with a bullwhip, confirming both the amount of space Skinner needed to swing the whip safely and Dalish’s level of enthusiasm at being her assistant for the evening.  About the time the pair began discussing their favored type of leather for whips and floggers, Dorian lost himself in the sound of Bull’s voice, his mind helpfully providing him with images of Bull wielding said whip, his chest bare and glistening with sweat beneath the warm lights in the club.

Dorian’s cock twitched, thickening again from the half hard state it had slipped into as they walked making Dorian only too aware of the plug vibrating in his ass.  He tried to shift subtly, widening his stance in an attempt to ease the pressure only to hear Bull growl a stern, “Be still.”

Dorian startled, trying not to blush at the smirk Skinner gave him from over Bull’s shoulder.  Kaffas, he hadn’t thought Bull could see him back here…he should have known better, twitching like some green newbie.  Unfortunately, now that he’d been reminded of the constant, gentle stimulation the vibrator was giving his prostate he couldn’t seem to forget it, his cock hardening in increments as precome once again began to dampen his briefs.

The longer Bull talked the harder Dorian struggled to keep his hands loosely clasped behind his back rather than give in to the temptation to palm his cock.  It wouldn’t take much, just a little hint of friction, anything to get rid of the desperate throbbing that was keeping beat with the vibrations occurring inside him.  Kaffas, at this point it’d almost be worth it to get caught, then maybe Bull would put him over his lap and punish him, his cock trapped against all that hard muscle while Bull’s strong hands warmed his ass.

His cock jumped in anticipation, pulling a low moan from Dorian’s lips that had Skinner peeking at him over Bull’s shoulder again, her lips twisted into an amused smirk.  Dorian couldn’t even find it in him to be embarrassed that she’d heard him this time, his entire focus on Bull, needing him to do something… _anything_.  Touch him.  Look at him.  Maker, he’d even take a growl telling him he could do it, because right now he felt like he was going to shatter into a million pieces…

Then it stopped, the plug stilling within him and leaving Dorian teetering right on the edge of a precipice, feather-light, needing only a slight breeze to send him falling, send him flying…

“Follow.”

Dorian whimpered.  He’d wanted words, but not that one.  His legs felt like rubber as he forced his knees to unlock so he could fall into step behind Bull.  He had a moment’s hope that his torment was going to be over when he realized they were headed towards the private rooms... only to have it dashed a second later when Bull stopped and shook someone’s hand.  “How’s it going tonight, Kremscicle?”  Dorian barely heard the words when the vibrator began beating a rapid tempo again.

“Good, Chief, good turn out tonight.  Adaar went in the back a little bit ago with Josie.”  Dorian bit back a whimper as the vibrator speed slowed to almost nothing.

“Shit, haven’t seen them in months.  Have them come find me when they finish, if they’re up to it.”  Dorian shook, a bead of sweat dotting his brow as the vibrator ratcheted up again.

“I’m sure they will be, they asked about you.”  Again the speed dropped, not as low as before but significant enough to allow Dorian to draw in several deep breaths to calm himself.

“Any trouble?”

“Naww, according to Lace there are only a handful of guests tonight.  It should be a quiet one…”  Dorian gasped as the vibrator began to race just as Krem stopped to cast a curious eye his direction.  “…least as quiet as things ever are here.  He ok?”

Dorian could feel it building in his gut, the heat and tension and need that not even his fear of disappointing The Iron Bull was going to be able to stop it.  His hips thrust forward instinctively, a low whine he thought was please but could have been nothing more than sound escaping him as the throbbing of the vibrator seemed to expand through his body until his entire being was shaking.

“Shit, Chief, might want to catch him before his legs give out.  What’d you do to him?  He’s halfway to subspace already…”

Dorian was aware of Bull finally turning to look at him, that one silver eye watching him so intently it burned hotter than the sun.  “Just showing him pain isn’t the only way to submit,” Bull finally drawled, speaking to Krem but never taking his eyes off Dorian.  “Which is why he’s not going to come right now even though he can practically feel it already starting.  Isn’t that right, Dorian?”

Dorian whimpered…

Bull’s hand shot out, cupping him firmly by the back of the neck, pulling Dorian forward and up until their faces were so close Dorian could feel the tremor of Bull’s words against his lips.  “Not now, Dorian.”

Bull held him there, equal parts focus and physical strength, Dorian’s ragged pants slowly calming to match Bull’s strong, even breaths and then, with a little nod, Bull pulled back.  The vibrator stilled within Dorian once again and Bull said something to Krem that Dorian didn’t even bother to try and follow.  He knew it should hurt, that his erection should, and probably was, still throbbing within the confines of his briefs but all he could think about were those tiny flecks of blue he’d seen in Bull eyes when they stood breathing together and how absolutely certain Bull had been that Dorian wouldn’t let him down.  He couldn’t remember anyone had ever having that much faith in him before.  It felt...it felt…

Dorian startled as Bull’s hand settled at the base of his spine, the Dom urging him to move forward and ignoring Dorian’s little mew of disapproval.  “Come on, Big Guy, just a few feet then we’ll sit for awhile…”

He knew it shouldn’t be so hard to make his feet move, each step feeling like he was having to pull his foot out of mud, and yet he did it.  He did it because Bull’s hand was a warm constant against his spine, his fingers pressing into Dorian’s flesh just enough to keep him from entirely forgetting that he was meant to be in motion and Dorian would do anything at the moment to make Bull happy.  He had no idea how far they’d actually gone, miles or just feet, when Bull stopped urging him forward and instead grasped Dorian around the hips, pulling him down with him onto one of the couches at the edge of the room.  Hummm, not miles then, Dorian acknowledged absently, relaxing with a contented sigh against Bull’s warm, firm chest.  Kaffas, Dorian could feel the heat of him even through his dress shirt, like a warm fire after braving a winter storm.

His lips curled a little when Bull chuckled in his ear and Dorian absently wondered if he’d said that last little bit out loud only to decide it didn’t matter anyway, he had nothing to hide from Bull.  Which was a good thing as the Dom shifted Dorian around on his lap like a doll, moving Dorian’s legs apart so they were draped along the outer edged of Bull’s thighs and pushing Dorian upright long enough to get his wrists pinned together behind his back before letting him lay back against him again.

“Comfortable?” Bull drawled in his ear, chuckling again when Dorian moaned a little yes and melted further into his arms.  “Good,” the Dom whispered, his teeth nipping at the curve of Dorian’s neck just as the vibrator leapt back to life.

Dorian moaned, loud and sinful, his hips rutting instinctively against Bull, pulling an answering groan from the Dom before his huge hands clamped down painful on Dorian’s hips, stilling him even though Dorian felt Bull’s cock harden beneath him.  Another moan of frustration and need fell from Dorian’s lips, his head shifting on Bull’s shoulder while Bull continued to pin him down with one arm, the other sliding up his chest to lay flat against his collarbone.

“So fucking responsive,” Bull whispered, his voice like whiskey laden honey.  “Every Dom in this room has wanted to be me tonight, wanted to have a sub so good that they push back their own pleasure time and time again just because they’re told to…”

Dorian cried out, his feet curling around Bull’s ankles as he fought for some leverage to thrust his hips against Bull’s tight hold only to whimper and finally fall slack  when he realized he was truly caught, helpless against whatever Bull wanted to do to him.  “That’s right, baby, let go and let me have control,” Bull crooned, his hand moving from Dorian’s neck down the center of his chest, blunted claws tracing the outline of his abdominal muscles before dragging back up and running the flat of his palm across Dorian’s chest, skimming over his nipple.  When Dorian arched into his touch, Bull returned to the nipple, pinching it between two fingers and rolling it before running his palm over it again.

Moving to the other side, he repeated his actions, biting Dorian’s ear when he pinched then whispering, “Mmmmm, so sensitive.  If you were mine I’d have them pierced…hoops of gold flashing against all that bronze skin…fuck, they’d look good with weights on them, definitely gonna have to clamp them, listen to you scream when I take them off…”

Dorian’s head was rolling against Bull’s shoulder, his entire body tensing as the Dom skated his hand down his ribcage and across his hip, finally stopping with his fingertips just beneath the elastic of Dorian’s briefs.  “Please…please…please…”

“Not yet, baby,” Bull whispered, the kiss he pressed against Dorian’s temple sweet and soft.  “I’ve got one more person I have to talk to…”

“Noooooo, I can’t,” Dorian whined, his entire body slumping in disappointment only to gasp when Bull’s hand at his hip griped hard enough to bruise, the tips of Bull’s filed claws digging into his skin punishingly.

“You will,” Bull growled, his tone brooking no argument.  “You’ll do it because I say so.  And because you’re a good boy.  Now behave.”

 _Good boy._  Dorian latched onto the two words like a mantra, barely listening as Bull greeted a qunari woman Dorian had never seen before who was accompanied by a rather exhausted looking dark-haired human woman.  He missed the human’s name, his attention caught on the way her sweat stained face peered up at the qunari with such love and devotion he didn’t need to see her band to know she was the woman’s sub.

Dorian sighed softly, a little jealousy mixed with longing as he watched the pair, but before he could get lost in the thought, Bull slid the hand at his waist down further into his briefs, his huge palm curling around Dorian’s cock and tugging it slowly.  Dorian gasped, his entire body shuddering at the intimate contact, then moaned when after one tug Bull’s hand slid lower, cupping his balls in his palm while his fingers pressed against the plug, turning Dorian into a writhing mess.

“Calm yourself,” Bull whispered, his smile evident in his tone as he continued to tease Dorian, rolling his balls in his fingers then curling them around Dorian’s shaft and stroking it several times, all the while continuing his conversation as though he were doing nothing out of the ordinary.

Fasta vass, and Dorian had thought himself tempted before, that had been nothing compared to this.  The entire world faded as the combination of Bull’s lazy touch and the vibrator beating deep within him took Dorian to the edge time and time again, only to have Bull still his touch, the hand at Dorian’s hip tightening each time, the bite of his claws forcing Dorian back down only long enough for Dorian to catch his breath before the whole thing started again.  His entire existence narrowed down to being Bull’s toy, something to occupy his hands while he attended to business.

Yet the bond wasn't entirely one sided, Dorian swore he could feel every inch of Bull’s skin, could tell the individual muscles that twitched in his arm when he stroked up, could sense the air flooding Bull’s system with each inhale and knew exactly when that air had been stripped of everything it had to offer to be released on an exhale.  Dorian knew that feeling, he wasn’t certain there was an inch of him Bull hadn’t touched, hadn’t made his own and he’d done it without ever breaking a sweat or even stuttering in his conversation.

So lost was he in the absolute blizzard of sensations, the sudden lack of stimulation when the vibrator stopped was like being cut, more painful in its absence than it’d ever been at full speed.  Before Dorian could decide whether to cry or beg or simply expire right on the spot, Bull’s voice was whispering again in his ear, so deep Dorian swore he could feel it in his gut, “you want to come?”

Dorian almost exploded right there, the words bursting from his lips in a tangled mass.  “Yes, please, now, please, sweet Maker, Bull, Sir, Master, please, please, please…”

“Alright, baby, alright,” Bull crooned, bunching Dorian’s briefs down under his balls, exposing his cock, shiny with precome.  “Show me how bad you want it.”

Dorian nodded rapidly, already anticipating the taste of Bull’s thick glans against his tongue when he tried to roll to the side so he could slip down between Bull’s legs, only to find himself held in place by those strong arms.  “No, baby, not me,” Bull chuckled, shifting Dorian so that he could free one of his arms, Bull's own large hand covering Dorian's and moving it pointedly to the curve of his hip.  “Touch yourself, show me how you like it.”

Dorian moaned in understanding, curling his hand around his own length, missing the way Bull’s hand was large enough to take his whole length while his own only stretched half of that.  Stroking firmly up he twisted his wrist a little when he reached the crown, squeezing harder and letting his thumb drag across the slit like he liked before running his hand down and back up again, his back arching as Bull’s hand slid past his own to press against the plug in his ass, twisting it just like Dorian twisted his own wrist and he was gone.  His entire world exploded into pinpoints of light as his balls tightened and come shot from his cock, painting his chest white before everything went black.

Dorian came to slowly, warm, comfortable and sated, the sounds he heard slowly morphing into actual words.  “So handsome and so patient, waiting like a good boy until I said it was time.  So good and so damn sexy…love the feel of you moving against me, the little cries you made for me, so sweet.  Never had anyone hang on like you did, so so perfect, opening yourself to me and taking what I gave you, couldn’t ask for more…”

Dorian nuzzled instinctively closer, the approval lacing every word settling over him like a balm even as his mind reminded him that it was The Iron Bull talking to him.  “Hey, you back with me, Big Guy?” Bull whispered against his temple, pressing a kiss to Dorian’s skin that had him purring.  “Yeah, there you are, think you can open your eyes for me?”

 _Pretty sure I’d walk across Thedas barefoot if you asked_.  Dorian startled a little to realize the thought was true.  Perhaps he’d best start with his eyes.  Cracking them open, he found that he was still sitting in Bull’s lap, but at some point Bull had moved to the end of the couch and Dorian was now wrapped in one of the club’s soft black aftercare blankets and tucked in between Bull’s legs, his back against Bull’s chest.  Tipping his head up, Dorian found Bull looking down at him, amusement twinkling in his eye.

“Hey there, handsome, _come_ here often?”

Dorian scowled and groaned, pulling a soft laugh out of the Dom.  “You didn’t just say that.”

“What? Too soon?”

“Never would still be too soon,” Dorian muttered, rolling his eyes before letting them close, his head falling back against Bull’s shoulder again.

He felt Bull shift, telling himself he absolutely did not feel colder when one of Bull’s arms moved away for a minute, though he didn’t bother to stifle a happy sigh when it returned.

“Come on, handsome, drink a little water for me, ok?”

Dorian cracked open an eye, opening his mouth and letting Bull raise the bottle to his lips.  Sweet Maker, that was good, he hadn’t been aware his throat was so dry.  He debated freeing one of his hands to hold the bottle himself but eventually decided he was too comfortable and Bull was looking at him with this soft expression that told Dorian he actually wanted to be doing it so he let Bull continue giving him sips of water until the bottle was empty.  “Thank you,” he whispered when Bull finally pulled the bottle away, twisting his head to place a kiss to the bare skin at the base of Bull’s throat.

He felt Bull’s little growl of appreciation, letting himself drift for a little longer while Bull ran his hand up and down his arm soothingly.  “You up to eating something?  I have some grapes here.”

Dorian snorted, because of course he did, Dorian loved grapes.  He was starting to think that Bull had been a boy scout in another life.  “Hummm, I suppose they’ll do,” he whispered, blinking up at Bull innocently.  “But I prefer oranges.”

“Of course, you do,” Bull’s laugh was bright and true, his finger coming down to tap Dorian on the nose.  “Brat.”

Dorian just grinned...and took the grape he was offered.


	3. Not All Whips Cause Pain

Dorian fought down butterflies as he stood before the door, his eyes tracing the grain of the wood as he waited for the seconds to tick by, raising his hand and knocking at exactly nine pm.

“Come in,” Bull barked out, sending a bolt of excitement and expectation down Dorian’s spine.

He hurried to comply, not daring to look at Bull this week until he was firmly into the room with the door shut behind him.  It was a well thought out precaution because once he got a look at Bull he almost melted into the floor.  This week the Dom was wearing a navy blue suit coat, no tie but a cream colored dress shirt opened at the neck and fuck, if Dorian had thought power rolled off the man before it was nothing compared to the way he owned the room now,  and not even that ridiculously huge pink desk managed to diminish the effect.

Knowing better than to get caught staring, Dorian hurried across the room, coming to a stop between the pair of chairs on the opposite side of the desk from Bull and clasping his hands behind his back before whispering, “Good evening, Sir.”

A smile curved Bull’s lips but otherwise he ignored Dorian as he continued to study the folder before him, flipping the pages back and forth several times before laying them down.  He grabbed a pen and signed his name with a flourish then dropped it, resting his elbows on the edge of the desk and steepling his fingers.  “I’m hoping it’s a good evening,” Bull finally drawled, his smile broadening.  “But first, strip.  I’d like to take a look at your injuries.”

Dorian could have told him that they were, for the most part, healed, only a few faint marks still left from the deepest of the cuts but he knew that look well enough to know when a dom wanted to do the inspecting himself.  Reaching for his cuff, Dorian had just started to slide the button free when Bull shifted, leaning back in his office chair and kicking his feet up onto the corner of the desk.  “Oh, and Dorian, make a show of it.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian said with a grin, making sure to flex his biceps as he worked out the button free on the second cuff then shifted his attention to the one lying an inch below his throat.  Tipping his head back, he trailed the fingers of his right hand down his neck, tugging at the collar of his shirt to expose a hint of collarbone before slipping the first button free.  Working loose the second one, he let his fingers dance beneath the fabric, toying with his nipples until they were hard nubs then moaning when he moved his hands back and the cold cotton brushed against them.  Slipping the third and fourth free let him splay his hand over his abs, curling his fingers just enough to trace the shallow grooves between muscles, his hips thrusting forward when he tugged at the expensive cotton, pulling his shirt tails from his pants and freeing the final button.

Tipping his head back, he toyed with himself, letting his thumbs dip down inside his pants to trace the curve of his hip before moving his hands upward again, letting Bull get a good look at his naked skin as he turned around.  Pulling his arm from one sleeve, he bared a shoulder to the Dom teasingly before letting the shirt go, flexing his back so that his muscles pulled tight beneath his skin while he tugged the shirt free of his second arm, taking a moment to fold it and place it on the chair before turning back to face Bull.

Fingers on his belt, he hesitated, biting at his lower lip and staring at the Dom until Bull finally nodded his approval.  Another little moan broke from Dorian, his eyes staying locked with Bull’s as he slowly pulled at his belt, letting it slide free of his pants and dropping it onto the chair then taking a moment to run his hands back up his body, nails dragging at the space between his ribs, palms flat against the smooth expanse of his pecks, then fingers pinching at his nipples again until his cock was as hard as a rock and Bull’s eye had gone dark.

Only then did Dorian slid a single finger down the center of his chest all the way to where his pants now hung low on his hips, sliding his hand under the wool of his trousers to cup his erection through his boxers.  He bit back a grin at Bull’s arched brow but obeyed and pulled his hand free.  Taking a moment to kick off his shoes, he made sure they ended up below the chair before turning his attention back to his pants, drawing his nails across his hip towards the fly.

A flick of his wrist had the button loosening, then he lowered the zipper slowly as he turned around, letting the pants drop below his ass before bending over, straight-legged and letting them slide down his body to pool on the floor.  Shifting his hips, he waited for a moment, giving Bull a good look before stepping out of them and straightening, folding them carefully and placing them on the chair with his pants.

He was just turning back towards Bull when the Dom cleared his throat, his deep voice sounding far closer than it had a moment ago, when he chided, “I believe you forgot something.”

Twisting his head, Dorian was surprised to find the Dom standing right behind him.  How in Andraste’s sweet ass did a man so large move so quietly?  Bull’s brow arched again, a sign Dorian was starting to recognize as ‘is there some reason you’re keeping me waiting?’   With a sly grin, he tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and slid the thin material down over his ass, holding onto the sides the entire time as he took the garment all the way to the floor and stepped out of them before folding them and letting them join the rest of his clothes.

A flush of pleasure went through him at the little growl he heard from behind him, but he waited to turn back around, stripping out of his socks so that when he once again faced Bull he did so entirely naked, everything he was exposed for the Dom’s approval.  Clasping his hands once more behind his back, he put his feet shoulder width apart and looked up at Bull through his lashes.

Bull looked him over slowly, his eye glinting and the hint of a smile still on his lips as he perused Dorian as thoroughly has he had the paperwork he’d been dealing with only moments ago.  Dorian shivered when Bull moved closer, slipping behind Dorian and running one of those huge hands across his shoulder and kaffas, was the man’s palm really as large as Dorian’s shoulder blade?  Gentle fingers traced along the remaining marks from Dorian’s whipping.  “They’ve healed nicely.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I’ll have to thank Stitches, it’d have been a shame to permanently mark such gorgeous skin,” Bull muttered, his fingers skimming across Dorian’s ass before cupping it, squeezing just hard enough to pull a moan from Dorian’s lips.

Trailing the tips of his fingers across Dorian’s hip, Bull moved back in front of him, stepping around the edge of the desk and pulling off his suit coat. “So, just to be clear, your lists are the same?  No changes?”

“No, Sir. I mean, yes, Sir, no changes.”

“And your safe word?”  Bull hung the suit coat from a hook Dorian hadn’t noticed on the bookcase, his fingers moving to unbutton his own cuffs and turn up his sleeves.

Dorian had to swallow hard over a rush of attraction as Bull’s muscular forearms were exposed.  Kaffas, the man really was too incredibly handsome.  “Maleficar.”

Bull smirked a little as though he knew what Dorian had been thinking.  Returning to Dorian’s side he reached out, wrapping one hand around the side of Dorian’s neck, his thumb caressing the sensitive skin along the line of his throat as he leaned in and whispered, “I’ve been thinking about this all week.”

Dorian bit back a whimper; the thought of the Dom wanting him as badly as Dorian wanted Bull a heady one.  “Hummm, got you speechless have I?” Bull continued, his voice rumbling in Dorian’s ear, his breath tickling his skin.  “Good. Now follow me.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian whispered, falling into step behind Bull as they walked out the door where he was surprised to find them turning to the left instead of the right.  Dorian vaguely remembered coming this way the night they met and he knew the only door remaining in the hallway would lead to the large storage room Bull had brought him through that first night.  Dorian hadn’t thought there were play rooms up here, perhaps they were for the staff’s private use.  There had been that hallway on the other side of the building, the one with the boring white everything…

Pushing through the door at the end of the hallway, Bull held the door for Dorian, his hand sliding down to rest possessively at the base of Dorian’s spine when he stepped past him…then froze.  The space which had previously been occupied by crates and boxes of various sizes had been cleaned out, it’s wooden floors polished until they shone in the light cast by several bright spotlights.  It wasn’t the floor which held Dorian spellbound, though: it was the large wooden cross that sat right in the middle of the space, every spotlight turned to its polished ebony frame, gold hardware gleaming in the light.

Dorian cast a panicked look up at Bull when the Dom applied pressure to the hand cradling his back, nothing but understanding in the Dom’s expression though he didn’t stop pushing Dorian forward.  Digging his heels in as well as he could against the slick floor, Dorian’s eyes kept darting from the cross to Bull and back again, his voice tormented as he whispered, “No, Bull, please, not yet…”

Bull’s hand slid up his spine, wrapping, hot and heavy, around the back of Dorian’s neck.  “Dorian, look at me.”

Dorian bit back a whimper, forcing his attention to stay on Bull as he bit at his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.  “Please…”

Bull tsked, raising his free hand and letting his thumb wipe away the drop of blood clinging to Dorian’s lips.  Squeezing Dorian’s neck he grumbled, “Calm yourself.”

Dorian tried to draw in a deep breath but found it stuttering in his chest, having to exhale before he could try again.  He wanted to be good, really he did, but he didn’t think…

“Stop thinking.”  Another squeeze to the back of his neck, Bull’s voice a calm constant to Dorian’s panic.  “You handed over control to me because you trusted that I know what you need.  Are you safe wording?”

“No…no, Sir.”

“Then when I let you go you will walk over there and take your position.”

Dorian nodded.  He could do this.   _Bull_ said he could do this.

“Dorian…”

Shit, he had to speak.  “Yes, Sir.”

Another squeeze on his neck.  “Good boy.”

Dorian allowed the words to wash over him, steeling his spine for the moment only seconds later when Bull let him go.  The first couple of steps were hesitant, his legs threatening to buckle beneath him, only a reluctance to let Bull down keeping him on his feet.  But as he got closer, Dorian found himself calming.  Bull wanted him to do this and Dorian wanted to please him.  He had to trust that Bull knew what he was…

His thoughts broke off on a startled gasp when Bull’s hand wrapped around his wrist, the memory of Erimond doing the same thing making him break out in a cold sweat, his safe word on his lips.

“Easy,” Bull whispered, the tips of his fingers stroking gently against Dorian’s wrist, the motion in direct contrast to the way Erimond had squeezed Dorian’s skin until it bruised.  “That’s it, I’m going to buckle the first cuff now.”

Dorian found himself nodding stiffly, forcing himself to breathe as the cuff tightened against his skin, the leather supple enough not to bite when Bull pulled at the d-ring, raising Dorian’s arm high enough to clip it into the shackle.  Dorian relaxed slightly when he realized that while he wasn’t quite able to stand flat-footed, Bull hadn’t taken him all the way up to his toes meaning he’d be able to stand the position for substantially longer without worrying about his legs cramping.

“So good,” Bull said soothingly, running his hand down Dorian’s arm and across his shoulders before reaching for his other wrist.  “So proud of you.”

Dorian shifted slightly, letting his shoulder rest against the curve of Bull’s arm while the Dom adjusted the second cuff, slipping a finger between the leather and Dorian’s wrist to make certain it wasn’t too tight before locking it into the shackle.  The snick of the shackle brought a little whine to Dorian’s lips, his mind helpfully reminding him that he was well and truly caught now.  That even with his legs free he couldn’t get away. If Bull decided to…

Dorian found himself enveloped in warm flesh, Bull’s chest pressed firmly against his back and one of Bull’s arms curled around him, hand splayed across his chest.  “Breathe,” Bull commanded, his fingers tapping at Dorian’s chest, encouraging him to draw in a deep breath.  His frozen lungs sang with the acquisition of oxygen making Dorian wonder how long he’d been holding his breath for.  Another tap at his chest, another breath of air.

“That’s it, perfect,” Bull rumbled with each breath Dorian took, his fingers finally stilling against Dorian’s chest as he asked, “Color?”

Dorian frowned, having to think for a moment before realizing Bull was trying to see if he was ok to move on.  The boulder that had taken up residence on his chest disappeared as he realized that yes, he was caught, but it was in a trap of his own choosing.  He wanted to be here with Bull, wanted Bull to push his boundaries and make him fly.  “Green, so green.”

“You’re amazing,” Bull whispered, his lips brushing across Dorian’s shoulder before he stepped back, letting his hands trace down Dorian’s sides, fingers dipping into the spaces between ribs before splaying out over his hips, both hands moving to the right side to trace the lines of muscles down Dorian’s thighs and calves.  A gentle tug at his ankle had Dorian widening his stance slightly, letting Bull secure his ankle to the bottom of the cross before quickly moving to the left leg, leaving Dorian spread open and vulnerable to anything the Dom wished to do.  The thought alone sent a shiver through Dorian’s body, his senses heightened as he anticipated Bull’s next action, his skin practically vibrating with need for the Dom’s touch.

Seconds stretched into minutes, silence continuing to reign as Dorian tried to resist the urge to turn around, to make certain that Bull hadn’t somehow left the room even though he knew Bull was too good of a Dom to do something like that.  Closing his eyes, Dorian dropped his head slightly, focusing on keeping his breathing steady and his body still.

“You look so good strung up there, skin glistening in the light, all that power and grace bound for my pleasure.  Fuck, I swear if you were mine I’d never let you wear clothes, just make you kneel by my side so I could admire you for hours…”  Bull’s voice was low and deep and Dorian soaked up his words like a dry sponge.  “Still, it’d be a shame to have had this thing brought up for nothing…and you do look so gorgeous when I take you apart…”

Dorian stiffened instinctively.  He’d known when he’d seen the cross that Bull would probably whip him tonight, but the memory of Erimond was still fresh in his mind.

“Color?”

Dorian shook his head, because of course Bull had seen him tense.  He was tempted to grit his teeth and say green, but that was what had gotten him here in the first place.  “Yellow.”

In an instant Bull was in front of him and Dorian found himself staring at the broad expanse of Bull’s naked chest.  Kaffas, the man was stunning, the perfect combination of solid muscle and round middle, soft enough to touch but strong enough to control.  Dorian absolutely did not swoon, though suddenly the lengthy silence made since, Bull had been removing his dress shirt so that it didn’t bind his arms when he was swinging the whip.

Bull’s huge hand curved soothingly against Dorian’s cheek as Bull encouraged him to look him in the eye.  “Want me to let you go?”

_Why would I want that?_  The thought flitted through Dorian’s brain and he only belated remembered his momentary panic at the thought of where the scene was going.  Hesitant to admit that seeing Bull half-naked had chased away his fear, he shook his head.  “No, kaffas, this is stupid, I know you’re not him, but I…”

Bull’s eye held a wealth of understanding, so much Dorian thought he could drown in it.  “Dorian, Erimond didn’t just hurt you, he betrayed your trust, taking your submission and turning it against you so that it became only about what he wanted.  I’d be worried if you weren’t anxious.”

Dorian sighed, lightly nuzzling his cheek into Bull’s palm.  “I don’t want to let him have this.”

“Would it help if I told you exactly what I’m going to do?  I know your paperwork says that you prefer…”

Dorian shook his head.  “No. I trust you, really I do.”

Bull’s eye flared again, this time with some emotion Dorian had trouble identifying, not that he had much time to think about it as Bull’s hand slipped down to cup his chin, the Dom leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.  “I’m proud of you for stopping things,” Bull whispered as he pulled back.  “And I promise you this, nothing I do to you tonight is going to hurt.  At least not in a bad way.”

Dorian snorted at that last bit.  No matter how patient Bull was, there was no doubting he was a Dom through and through.  Daring a little smile, Dorian whispered, “Yes, Sir. Green, Sir.”

Bull just nodded, stroking his thumb down Dorian’s cheek once more before moving behind him.  Rather than make Dorian wait, this time Bull spoke almost immediately.  “Try to relax.  This isn’t a punishment so there’s no need for you to count.  All you have to do is stay still and take what I give you, understand?”

Even with Bull’s promise not to make it hurt, Dorian still had to swallow past the knot in his throat.  “Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy,” Bull chuffed, sounding closer than he had a moment ago.

Dorian was trying to figure out of that was a good thing or a bad thing when the flogger hit his shoulder, the strike lazy enough that the strands slapped against his skin rather than just the stinging ends.  Dorian’s shoulders slumped, a low moan pulled from his lips as the strands were pulled on a diagonal across his back, each one as soft as…

“Hummm, like that do you?” Bull purred, the flogger striking Dorian’s other shoulder before being pulled the other way across his skin.  “Deerskin.  It’ll take longer to get you there but that just means more fun for me.”

A series of thudding strikes made tracks down Dorian’s back, each one curling around Dorian’s ribs like an embrace even as the tips popped little stings against his chest.  Torn between wanting to escape the sting and craving the thud, Dorian shifted against the cross, his cock rubbing against the hardwood as Bull skipped over the sensitive bit of flesh between the bottom of Dorian’s ribs and his waist, choosing instead to land a thudding blow to the curve of his hip.

Gasping slightly, Dorian pushed his ass back, moaning when Bull placed a matching blow to the other hip a second later.  “Stay still,” the Dom growled, a rapid series of strikes making their way down the curve of Dorian’s ass, the last ones catching the sensitive skin at the top of his thighs.  As far as punishments went, it was a weak one, leaving Dorian moaning with each hit.

“Better,” Bull rumbled, a pleased flush reddening Dorian’s cheeks.  “Knew you’d look good like this, your skin’s practically glowing…”

Dorian expected Bull to hit him harder now that he’d been warmed up but as the dom worked his way back up Dorian’s body he kept the strikes soft and thudding, warming Dorian’s skin slowly as he kept working a lazy figure eight that had Dorian’s muscles relaxing far more than they were tensing.  Letting out a long, slow sigh, Dorian finally let go of the last of his tension, trusting that all he had to do was stand here and let Bull work him over, the leather sliding against his skin like a lover’s embrace.

The more Bull whipped him the more Dorian became aware of the other sensations in the room: the way the stiffer leather of the cuffs rested against his skin, the slide of his flesh against the polished wood of the cross when he arched after a particularly well placed blow.  Even the air shifting as Bull swung the whip seemed to brush across his skin like a caress.  Moaning softly, Dorian imagined Bull’s fingers following the same trail as the whip, his huge, calloused hands sliding roughly down Dorian’s body, his claws biting in just hard enough to leave little trails in their wake…

Bull’s soft growl made Dorian realize he was thrusting his hips forward again, desperate for a little friction against his throbbing cock.  Whimpering softly, Dorian forced himself to still, drawing in a long slow breath and letting it out before relaxing against the restraints again.  The next strikes stung, just the tips of the flogger stinging the cleft of his ass, then immediately after another stinging blow just to the left of center in the middle of his ass then another, lightning quick on the right.  Startled, he yelped, the next two hits coming just as quick but not as sharp, catching him in the same spot but over a wider width…then again but wider and a fourth time, back to the dull thud as the last several inches of the flogger curled languidly around his hip.

With a low moan, Dorian slid back into the space he’d just been in, his thoughts floating pleasantly as Bull worked his body over.  It was pleasing in a way Dorian hadn’t anticipated to be the center of the Dom’s attention. Every bit of Bull’s focus was on Dorian and the way he moved, the subtle changes in his skin, the twitch of each muscle even as Dorian in turn focused on Bull’s motions: the way the flogger hit, the strength behind it, the quiet in and out of the Dom’s breath as he moved.  In giving himself over to Bull he found a singularity of focus he couldn’t often maintain outside a scene.  Sighing softly, Dorian closed his eyes and let himself float there, awareness and oblivion twisting together until it was impossible to tell one from the other.

_Warmth, blessed warmth_ , Dorian thought, trying to curl up against the heat, only to find himself unable to move his arm.  Whimpering softly he tugged again, the warmth at his back and around his waist shifting, heat running up his arm.

“Shhhhh, hold on, just a minute, sweetheart, let me get your arm free…”  The words flitted aimlessly through Dorian’s mind, the voice familiar enough that he stilled and was rewarded by his arm being released and folded carefully against his chest.  “That’s it, such a good boy, such a sweet sub, let me get your other arm free and…”

Dorian whimpered again, turning so he could rest his cheek against the source of the warmth, nuzzling against soft skin.  He barely had time to notice that his other arm was free, lowered to join the first against his chest, before he was swept up into a pair of strong arms…hummmm, Bull had strong arms…

“That’s right, baby.  It’s me, just let me get you to my office and I’ll get you a blanket.  Get you warm and check your wrists.  You’ve been so good for me, so damn sweet, you deserve a little pampering.”

“Mine,” Dorian muttered lazily, nuzzling closer and tucking his nose into the hollow of Bull’s throat, so close he could feel Bull chuckle as the larger man tilted his head, rubbing his cheek against the top of Dorian’s head.  Sighing contentedly, Dorian let himself float, trusting that Bull would take care of him.

It was the vibration that brought Dorian back, a low, pleasant rumbling against his ribs that he seemed to hear as well as feel from within his warm cocoon.  Curious, he engaged his senses. The soft fabric curled around him was obviously a blanket like Bull had used before; the rumbling turned out to be Bull humming softly under his breath as he held Dorian securely, his hands ghosting over the outside of the blanket, long slow strokes meant to soothe rather than stimulate.  Shifting slightly, Dorian was surprised to find that while his ass was still warm from the beating it took, there was no pain involved and he was certain that if he were standing before a mirror he’d see no bruising.

_Bull kept his promise_ , he thought, sighing softly as more thoughts returned to him.  Memories of how connected he’d felt to the Dom, of the sweet praise Bull had lavished upon him when he’d helped him from the cross, the pleasant sweat and musk scent of Bull when Dorian had been curled in his arms, the quiet possessive whisper he’d made into…Dorian stiffened.  Vishante kaffas, had he actually said that?  The memory of Bull’s soft chuckle said he had.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Bull’s lips brushed against Dorian’s ear, his arms tightening around him in a way that had Dorian fighting against the blanket, struggling to get free.

“Hey, hey, calm down, it’s ok…” Bull whispered, moving Dorian of his lap and helping him find the edge of the blanket, curling Dorian’s fingers in it so he knew he had control.

But once he knew he could get free the only thing Dorian wanted was to disappear into the expanse of blue fabric and never come out, his fingers tightening bone-white into the material as he pulled it tight around him.  Memories flooded Dorian’s mind, Bull’s office fading away to be replaced by a warm library, blood red leather chairs arranged before the fire…

 

_Dorian knelt beside the chair, his head resting gently on Rilienus’s knee while the Master’s long, thin fingers stroked through his sweat-soaked hair.  His mind was still foggy from the orgasm his Master had finally allowed him after taking him to the edge and denying him more times than Dorian could count.  Even now, Dorian could feel the mixture of come, his Master’s and his own, hardening against his skin.  It was an uncomfortable sensation, but Dorian knew that Rilienus liked seeing debauched like that, covered with his spend and his marks, bruises that would take weeks to fade entirely carefully hidden where no one but the two of them would ever know._

_“I’m afraid I won’t be able to see you on Saturday, pet.  Senator Zinovia’s gala is that night.”_

_Kaffas, Dorian had hoped he’d forgotten that damned party.  He still didn’t understand…_

_Rilienus’s fingers tightened in his hair, tugging painfully at the scalp as he turned Dorian’s head to face him.  “Something to say, pet?”_

_“No, Master,” he whispered, wincing when Rilienus’s fingers pulled harder, a rebuke for Dorian’s lie.  Swallowing hard, he forced himself to tell the truth.  “I just don’t understand why we cannot go together.  It’s not as if others won’t arrive together…”_

_Dorian broke off at Rilienus’s annoyed huff, the man’s fingers tugging free of his hair as his Master stood and began to pace.  “Do we really need to go over this again, Dorian?”_

_He winced at his name falling from Rilienus’s lips, his Master never called him by name.  A shiver coursed down his spine, an indication that something serious was occurring and Dorian tried to free his mind entirely from the fog so he didn’t make a foolish mistake.  Clearing his throat, he finally ventured, “I just thought that when we signed the contract…”_

_Rilienus stopped his pacing, spinning around to pin Dorian with a stare that wavered somewhere between frustration and pity.  Running a hand though hair the color of burnished copper, Relienus sighed heavily.  “I would like nothing more than to be able to walk with you in public, Dorian.  But this is Tevinter.  No matter what contracts we sign or how prettily you beg, we will always remain in the shadows.”_

_“But I am yours, you are mine…”_

_Rilienus’s laugh was dark and brittle.  “Oh, Dorian, I am barely my own, how can I possibly be yours?”_

_“But…”_

_Rilienus stormed closer, his eyes hard and glittering as he reached out to curl his hand in Dorian’s hair once more.  Squatting down, he twisted his fist until Dorian was forced to turn his head sideways, baring his throat for his Master.  Tears formed in Dorian’s eyes, a soft whimper escaping his lips._

_“Enough!” Rilienus huffed, an exasperated sigh escaping him.  “You are my slut, not the other way around. You will not question my commands.  You may stay or you may go, but either way this conversation is through… and we will not have it again.”_

_He had stayed.  Of course he had stayed.  But in the end it didn’t make a difference, the damage was done.  He had wanted too much, had dared to dream of a future in a place built on now and been left with only ash.  In the end, Rilienus didn’t even bother to formally end their contract, just threw it into the fireplace and let it burn until it was as if it had never existed._

 

“Dorian.  Come on, handsome, talk to me…”

Dorian shook his head, a soft cry ringing out as he found himself back in the present, Bull hunched down on his knees before him, concern etched on the dom’s face.  “Sorry, I…” he broke off, not certain what he was supposed to say.  Sorry I had a flashback to the worst moment in my life.  Sorry I called you mine when I was too gone to think better of it.  Sorry that I can’t seem to help overreaching…

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Bull assured him, his hand coming to rest tentatively on Dorian’s knee, his heat seeping through the blanket like a balm to Dorian’s frantic thoughts.  That mercurial grey eye of his seeming to stare straight through Dorian, watching him for several long moments before nodding.  “Ok, so I’m going to get you a bottle of water then we’re going to talk about what just happened.”

Dorian opened his mouth to speak only to be silenced by a finger being laid across his lips.  “Before you ask, yes, it is necessary and no, we cannot do it later,” Bull answered, studying Dorian for a second longer before adding, “Alternatively, if you really don’t want to tell me what it was about then you can agree to stay here until I’m certain you’re not going into sub drop, then I’ll take you home myself or call you a cab.  Either way I don’t think you should be driving.”

Dorian wanted to argue, to tell Bull that he was fully capable of taking care of himself and had been doing so for a long time thank you very much, but he knew that was the adrenaline talking as much as the warm feeling in his chest Bull’s words had given him was from the endorphins and in the end he just nodded.  Bull’s smile felt warm enough to rival the sun, the kiss he pressed to the top of Dorian’s head as he stood, surprisingly comforting.

Dorian watched Bull walk behind his desk to open a cabinet in the corner of the room that hid a small fridge stocked with water and some type of orange sports drink.  Bull pulled one of each out, cracking the seal on the sports drink himself, tipping his head back and taking a long swig that had Dorian’s attention focused on the way the Dom’s throat moved as he swallowed, the motion oddly sensual in a way Dorian had never thought about before.

Bull straightened, his eye sparkling as he looked at Dorian, leaving him wondering if he’d made some sound he hadn’t intended to.  Dorian broke eye contact, dropping his head in an attempt to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks.  Kaffas, that was all he needed to finalize his humiliation tonight, caught mooning over The Iron Bull drinking of all things.

A plastic bottle appeared in his line of sight.  “Here, drink this first, then I have a surprise.”

Dorian grabbed the bottle, taking a long drink himself, surprised as always by how thirsty the scene had made him even though it had been an easy one.  Twisting the cap back on, he finally looked up at Bull to find the man holding out his hand. A  large, bright orange was balanced on his palm.  Dorian chuckled, a grin curling his lips as he shook his head.

“Heard you preferred these,” Bull grinned back, snatching his hand back when Dorian reached for the fruit.  “Ah, ah, ah, what kind of Dom would I be if I made you peel it yourself?”

Dorian found himself forcing back sudden tears, a little growl of frustration rumbling his chest as he blinked them away.  Fasta vass, what was wrong with him tonight?  Bull hadn’t bruised so much as a single inch of his skin yet Dorian felt like he’d been flayed open, his emotions laid bare.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok,” Bull whispered again, the couch shaking as he flopped down onto the cushions in the corner and held out his arms invitingly.

Dorian debated for an abysmally short amount of time before taking the comfort offered, surging across the couch to sit between Bull’s legs, his back against Bull’s chest with the Dom’s arms wrapped firmly around him.  “Kaffas, I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight,” he quietly admitted.

Bull shrugged behind him, the arms remaining tight as Bull began to peel the rind from the orange.  “Happens that way sometimes.  A session doesn’t have to involve pain to bring up old wounds.”

Dorian choked on a wet gasp, sniffling as he let his head fall back against Bull’s shoulder.  “You have no idea how right you are.”

Another shrug.  “Well, I might have some idea.  Dom here.”

Dorian snorted, slapping weakly at Bull’s arm.  “You’re the worst.”

They fell silent for a while, Dorian’s attention riveted on Bull’s large, scarred hands deftly peeling the orange in one long continuous spiral then flicking the rind over onto the table and working a segment loose.  Dorian opened his mouth when the piece was offered to him, letting himself enjoy the contradiction of sweet and tangy flavors rushing over his tongue.  “You didn’t have to go to the trouble of finding me oranges.”

Bull offered him another piece, waiting until Dorian nipped it neatly from between his fingers before responding.  “I didn’t do it because I had to.  I did it because I wanted to.  Because you were honest enough with me to tell me your preferences.”

Silence descended again, Bull offering Dorian a new slice of orange every time he finished the previous one until finally only one slice remained.  Curling his hand around Bull’s wrist to stall the offering, Dorian whispered, “I’m sorry about what I said earlier, when you were carrying me.”

Dorian let go of Bull’s wrist, taking the last slice of orange and only barely resisting the urge to lick a thin bead of juice off his finger.  Bull waited until he had both his hands tucked back around Dorian before speaking, his words carefully neutral.  “Why do you feel you need to apologize for that?”

Dorian sighed, wishing he could just go back in time and keep his damn mouth shut.  It was only one little word.  Shrugging, he admitted, “I have a habit of expecting too much.”

He felt Bull’s soft sigh.  “That something you actually believe, or something you’ve been told so often you feel you ought to?”

Dorian bristled, a sharp retort on his lips until he realized Bull wasn’t breathing.  Or more specifically, he was holding his breath as though he knew broaching the question was going to go badly but still he’d asked.  Beyond that, the answer actually meant something to Bull or he wouldn’t be waiting with bated breath for Dorian’s response.  The realization forced Dorian to close his mouth and actually think about what Bull had asked.

Was it really asking to much to want someone of his own?  Certainly Bull had referenced what he would do if Dorian was _his_ more than once during the two sessions they’d shared, was Dorian’s half-conscious declaration any more unreasonable?  He was surprised to find himself admitting, “More the second, I’m afraid.”

Bull’s arms tightened around him, his head dipping to whisper in Dorian’s ear, “Then fuck ‘em.”

Dorian startled, then laughed, his chest feeling suddenly lighter as though he’d somehow healed an injury he’d been carrying around for a long time without ever realizing it existed.  Fuck them indeed.


	4. Silence Speaks Loudest

Dorian rushed up the stairs two at a time, hurrying down the hallway and not bothering to check his watch before knocking.  He knew he couldn’t be early because he’d been stuck in traffic when the clock on his dashboard ticked over to nine pm, the clock traitorously telling him it was nine twenty eight when he’d finally parked in the club’s lot and raced for the door.

“Come in.”

Dorian’s hand shook as it reached for the doorknob, his mouth already moving as he opened the door.  “I’m so sorry, Bull.  Our department meeting ran long and then the department head insisted that I look over the course offerings for next semester.  I think he was hoping I’d volunteer to teach an additional class but honestly the…”

“Dorian.”

“…only class that makes sense is an intro to Antivan history and really, I didn’t spend all those years getting a Master’s in the Dragon Age to be stuck confirming to a bunch of freshmen that the Crows did really exist and yes their methods were barbaric.  Anyway, by the time I got out of there I was racing and I forgot my charger and of course…”

“Dorian, stop.”

“…my phone was dead but I only realized that after sprinting half way across campus and if I had known that there was an accident on the twenty three I would have gone back for it but I didn’t know and so I…”

_“Do...ri...an.”_

Dorian’s mouth snapped shut, his eyes finally focusing on Bull and the frown the Dom was wearing.  Tapping his fingers against the desk, Bull regarded him critically for several long moments before speaking.  “I have one question for you and I expect an honest answer.  Is this about last week?”

A frown now creased Dorian’s brow and it took him a moment to realize what Bull was asking.  That he thought the moment of soul-bearing honesty that had occurred between them meant that Dorian was trying to get out of their sessions.  And alright, so perhaps there had been a few occasions early in the week when Dorian had considered cancelling, but as tonight had gotten closer he found that he was looking forward to his session with Bull even if it did end with him spewing out decade old insecurities.  “No.  I told you, I had a meeting and…”

“Strip.”

Dorian’s frown deepened and he huffed out a little sigh, barely resisting the urge to stomp his foot.  “Now listen here, I’m sorry that I’m late but I would appreciate…”

He gasped as Bull practically sprang over the desk, leaping from his chair and rounding it in only a couple of long strides, his hand snapping out to curl around Dorian’s throat, forcing his chin up to rest against the web between Bull’s thumb and index finger.  Kaffas, he might as well be buckled into a posture collar because he certainly wasn’t moving unless Bull allowed it.  Swallowing hard against the steel he saw in Bull’s eye, he forced himself not to look away as Bull pinned him with a stare.  “I’m only going to say this once, Dorian.  Safe word or strip.”

Dorian glared up at Bull, frustrated beyond measure that the man wouldn’t just listen to him.  He opened his mouth to speak only to watch Bull’s eye narrow.  “Fine, fuck, whatever you say,” Dorian hissed, gracing Bull with a smirk that had his eye narrowing further before releasing Dorian and returning to the other side of the desk.

Decision made, Dorian had only to glance at Bull to realize that the Dom had returned to his paperwork, paying Dorian no attention for the moment.  Aware that there was no need to tease tonight, Dorian quickly disrobed, folding his clothes neatly as usual and placing them on the same chair, his shoes tucked tightly beneath it before turning to face Bull, his hands clasped behind his back.

It became apparent that Bull was going to make him wait when the Dom finished the report he was looking at, setting it to the side and grabbing another without ever acknowledging Dorian.  Clenching and unclenching his hands behind his back, Dorian struggled to remain silent as time passed, his irritation at being ignored growing with every passing moment.  He wanted to argue that it really wasn’t his fault, well, yes, he could have ensured his cell phone was charged, but beyond…

“Kneel.”

Dorian startled, having almost forgotten he was waiting for Bull’s acknowledgment and with a guilty glance, he looked up to find Bull pointing to a spot on the floor next to him.  When the Dom arched his brow, Dorian burst into action, leaping forward and hurriedly moving around the desk to kneel gracefully at Bull’s left side.  Placing his hands palm up on his thighs, he bowed his head and waited for instruction...only to feel Bull move his chair forward slightly, his arm reaching for another folder.

Fasta vass, he had thought…sighing softly, Dorian let his toes wiggle against the cool, wood floor, shifting his weight slightly from side to side.

“You’re already in enough trouble for cursing, I’d recommend you sit still unless you want to make it worse on yourself.”

Dorian bit back a second sigh, forcing himself to still as he mentally cursed the History department’s head for insisting that they finalize class offerings on a Friday night of all times.  Who did that?  He supposed he could have explained that he had plans this evening, but Dr. Solas had a way of looking straight through him, as if he were somehow inferior to him in every way and simply having to abide his company was painful enough without having to listen to him speak.

Perhaps most annoying was that he knew if that if Bull would just listen to him, he would understand.  After all, it wasn’t like he could take Bull’s advice of last week to heart and just say ‘fuck ‘em’ to his boss.  He needed that job, and even it it had become overwhelmingly clear that he was never going to please the stringent man, he had an obligation to do his best.

_Is that any different from the obligation you've entered into here?_  Dorian startled slightly as the thought flitted through his mind, drawing a little growl from Bull.  Loathe though he was to admit it, there really was no difference.  The Iron Bull was as deserving of Dorian's consideration as Dr. Solas was, perhaps more so as he had actually _had_ a chance of pleasing Bull at some point.  A chance that he had squandered due to his own lack of preparation.

Eyes focused on the floor before him, Dorian let his focus shift to the man beside him, listening as to the distinctive sound of pen scratches then a pause while Bull moved paper around and then more scratching.  There was something mesmerizing about the everyday sounds of life and business occurring around him and Dorian found his shoulders rounding, releasing the tension they had held since his frantic run across campus.

Now that was something he could do something about.  For some reason he had been assigned staff parking near the science buildings when he had first started work at the university and through a combination of apathy and bad luck he had yet to make it to the permit office while it was open.  If his car had been by his office he would have been more likely to go back for his charger or simply call Bull from the office to let him know he would possibly be late.

Sighing softly, Dorian acknowledged that that was what was bothering him the most.  He should have called before he even left the office, he just wasn’t used to having someone waiting on him and he’d blown it.  Then, to make matters worse he’d come in rambling excuses, disturbing Bull’s work rather than waiting to be acknowledged and simply apologizing.  Kaffas, it was a wonder Bull had let him stay rather than sending him back home the moment he arrived.

The thought was enough to drive the air from Dorian’s chest, his mind finally catching up to what Bull had been trying to get him to realize all along.  Because once he walked through the door to Bull’s office he didn’t need to make excuses or apologize, those were things to make _him_ feel better, but this wasn’t about him, this was about giving control to Bull and doing what Bull wanted.  And right now, Bull wanted him kneeling here at his feet, waiting.

The realization was like the first spring breeze through a window closed all winter, his muscles relaxing and his mind slowly quieting.  He let his eyes close, settling into his submission as his attention turned to Bull.  Now that he wasn’t screaming at himself he could hear the subtle tap of a single finger against the top of the desk, his breathing automatically falling into synch with the movement, inhale with one tap, exhale with the next.  The familiar musky scent he’d begun associating with Bull wrapped around him, settling him further as it seemed to sink through his skin right to his bones, every scratch of the pen now so distinct Dorian could practically see Bull’s signature writing itself onto his consciousness.  It was heady and calming and Dorian lost himself in the sensation so entirely that when Bull finally reached out to card his fingers through Dorian’s hair he found himself straightening in anticipation of the touch.

“There you go, so good for me,” Bull crooned, continuing to stroke Dorian’s hair for a long moment before sighing softly.  His fingers never stilled as he said, “You’re being so good, but I still owe you a punishment.  Since we’ve only scened together a few times, I’m not punishing you for not trusting me to know what you need, but you were late and you’ve been told about the cursing.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian whispered.  “I’m sorry, Sir.”

Bull’s hand slid down to cup the back of Dorian’s neck gently.  “I know you are, but you still broke the rules and you’re going to have to take your punishment.”  Bull released Dorian and pushed his office chair back away from the desk, patting at his knee.  “Come on, over my lap.”

Dorian stared for a moment, uncertain of just how to proceed.  The doms he’d been with since joining the club hadn’t lasted long enough to need to punish him with anything other than a random swat and Rilienus had preferred to tie him up and use a whip rather than his hand.  Hanging his head, Dorian admitted, “Sir, I’m not…that is I’ve never…”

Bull’s eye flared, his features softening slightly as he realized that Dorian’s hesitancy wasn’t from any desire to escape his punishment.  “It’s ok, Dorian, crawl over here and we’ll get you situated, I can’t believe your doms were able to resist the urge to get their hands on that sweet ass of yours.”

Dorian blushed, crawling the short distance to Bull and rising so that Bull could drape him over his lap, his hips tucked firmly around the side of Bull’s thigh with his body stretched out over it.  He would have been embarrassed if not for Bull’s growl of appreciation and the fact that he could already feel Bull’s cock hardening against his belly.  “Go ahead and put your hands down to steady yourself if you need to but you may not, under any circumstances try to get them behind you, I don’t want to hurt you and if you try I’ll be forced to cuff them, understand?”

Dorian’s nod only got him a swat to his hip and he quickly yelped, “Yes, Sir.”

“That’s better,” Bull chuckled, rubbing his hand over the skin he’d just struck.  “Now, you owe me one stroke for each minute you were late and another five for cursing.  You don’t have to thank me but you do have to count.  If you forget I’ll be happy to remind you but that one won’t count, understood?”

Forty two.  That wasn’t insubstantial but certainly he could take it.  “Yes, Sir.”

“Good.  Safe word?”

“Maleficar.”

“Good boy,” Bull purred, his hand caressing the curve of Dorian’s ass for a moment before pulling away…

“Kaffas,” Dorian screeched, Bull’s hand crashing down on his ass so hard he would have slid off it if Bull’s other arm wasn’t currently pressing down on his lower back, preventing him from moving.

“That’s five more,” Bull tsked, his hand rubbing a circle over Dorian other ass cheek.  “And you’re gonna want to count this next one.”

Fasta vass, how could he think of counting when…Bull’s hand crashed down on his ass again, every bit as hard as the last time but this time Dorian made sure to keep his mouth shut until he was certain he wouldn’t scream.  “One,” he gritted out.

He hadn’t even had time to draw a breath before the second and third blows came in rapid succession, one to each cheek, right above the start of his thigh.  Gasping, he stuttered, “Two, three.”

Bull allowed him time for a breath then, his hand rubbing soothingly across the stinging skin for a moment before landing another blow high on Dorian’s right cheek.

“Four!”  Dorian cried, his toes digging for purchase against the hardwood floor as he instinctively tried to push away from Bull’s hold.

“Still,” Bull growled, a bevy of blows landing on Dorian’s ass in such quick succession his ass felt like it was on fire.  Tears welled in his eyes and he huffed out, “Six, seven, eight, nine, ten.”

He’d taken spankings with a paddle that didn’t hurt as bad as Bull’s hand did.  Smack.  Smack.  Smack.

“Eleven, twelve, thirteen,” Dorian panted, the first tear breaking free and coursing down his cheek.

Fuck, they were only a quarter of the way through, how was he supposed to…

Dorian flinched when Bull ran his hands over his ass, his callused palms pulling against Dorian’s reddening skin rather than soothing it.  It was almost a relief when he pulled away except…smack.

Dorian waited a moment, expecting another hit only to hurriedly call out ‘fourteen’ just before another pair of blows.  “Fifteen, sixteen.”

Another single smack, then four in rapid fire progression to the tops and bottoms of both cheeks, then two, then three.  It was all Dorian could do to keep track of the number he needed to call next, his entire consciousness focused on not missing another call because a missed number meant an added swat and already his skin felt like it was on fire.  Twenty-six.  Twenty-six.  Twenty-six was next he reminded himself, sniffling against the tears that now fell unheeded to the floor, Bull’s large hand taking a moment to stroke over his skin before continuing and damn it he needed to focus, twenty-six he was on…

“Color?”

Dorian froze, his mind seizing as he tried to process the question.  He knew twenty-six wasn’t the right answer but damn it it was the only one he had but he didn’t want to say the wrong…

“Dorian, hey, you with me?”  Bull’s hand stilled, fingers splayed across Dorian’s ass as he waited for an answer.

Shaking his head, Dorian forced himself to look beyond the fire raging across his skin, past the tears and the snot and the fucking numbers to the fact that Bull needed a response from him.  Needed a color from him.   _Tell him red and it all stops_ , his mind helpfully offered, the thought alone pulling a little whimper from Dorian’s lips because it was so tempting even if it would be cheating.

“Dorian, I need a color or I’m going to end this,” Bull said calmly, as though it wouldn’t upset him in the least if that was what happened even though he himself had been the one to set the terms.  Even though _he_ believed Dorian could do this.

Drawing in a couple of shuddering breaths, Dorian acknowledged the pain he was in and while it was greater than he’d anticipated, he’d certainly taken worse.  Not to mention this was supposed to be a punishment and as such, well, it wasn’t a lesson he was likely to want to repeat.  Still he could do this, he wanted to do this.  Wanted the absolution that would come at the end of suffering this for Bull.  Sniffling loudly he nodded his head.  “Green, Sir.”

The swat was immediate, hard and exactly what Dorian had expected.  “Twenty-six.”

There were no more pauses after that, no more attempts by Bull to soothe skin that was beyond calming, his strikes landing in varying groups of two and three, occasionally a single hit or four all at once.  Never enough of a pattern to let Dorian anticipate the blow, so he quickly fell back into focusing on the next number then the next, his entire world shrinking until it contained only Bull’s hands, one a firm constant and one an arbitrary deliverer of both pain and redemption.

By the time they reached thirty-six Dorian was crying between each swat, tears flowing like water down his cheeks before dripping onto the dark wood floor and pooling there like a record of Dorian’s mistakes.  He couldn’t help thinking that he should be embarrassed right now.  He was a grown man and he was not only allowing Bull to turn him over his lap like an errant child, but he was crying and blubbering like one too and yet…and yet…

There was this part deep inside him, the part that knew he could have done more to let Bull know he was going to be late, the part that knew he should have just told Dr. Solas, no, tonight wasn’t a good time, the part that should have safe worded with Erimond and who should have walked out the door of Rilienus’ place the night they’d fought and never gone back and that part, that heavy, guilty, oh so tired part of him was finally lightening.  A tiny bit of sun and warmth deep down in his gut and with every swat it was growing brighter and stronger and the closer he got to the number forty-seven the more it felt like he could finally let all that old hurt go, that he had paid the price for his mistakes and he was…

“Forty-seven.”

…forgiven.

Dorian sobbed, huge heaving cries wracking his body as Bull moved him around on his lap, shifting Dorian so his knees were braced on the office chair to either side of Bull’s thighs, his chest pressed tight to Bull’s, head buried in Bull’s throat.  One of Bull’s hands held him tightly around the waist while the other moved in soothing lines up and down his back.

“Shhhh, that’s it baby, such a good boy,” Bull crooned softly, occasionally stroking all the way up Dorian’s neck to run through the ends of his hair before sliding back down again.  “It’s all over now, everything’s forgiven.  You were so good.”

Dorian struggled to take a breath between sobs, weak little mews escaping him as he clung loosely to Bull and let the larger man sooth him.  Bull’s hand finally stilled against the middle of his back, his fingers splayed almost the entire width of it as he pressed lightly, helping Dorian to focus.  “That’s it, handsome, take a deep breath.  Such a good boy, so trusting and honest.  Let it out, sweetheart, let it all go, it’s all over now.  Come on, breathe for me.”

And so he did.  With his face tucked tight against Bull’s skin, he synched his breathing with the man against him and cried until the sobs wore out and the tears faded to dry tracks.  At some point, Bull had returned to running his fingertips in lazy figure eights on Dorian’s back and Dorian shuddered once when a loop had Bull’s fingers running over a sensitive spot at the base of his skull.  Swallowing hard, he finally whispered, “It’s never been like that…”

He felt Bull stiffen slightly beneath him though he never stopped those lazy loops up and down Dorian’s spine.  “You mean the tears?”

Dorian shook his head slightly.  “No, I’ve cried before,” he chuckled, weakly.  “But it’s never felt like…”  he broke off, tucking his face even closer to Bull’s throat, his words a whisper against his skin, “like I was really being forgiven.”

“Oh, Dorian,” Bull sighed, his breath leaving him on a huge exhale as he hugged Dorian tighter to him.  “I’d say I’m sorry you’ve never had that before but I don’t think you’d appreciate that so I’ll just say that I’m glad I was able to give that to you.  And that you are forgiven, clean slate.”

Dorian nodded, not trusting himself to be able to get the words out and for once Bull didn’t press him to try.  They sat there for several more moments, both of Bull’s arms wrapped tight around Dorian while the larger man rocked them slightly in the chair.  Eventually though, Bull let one of his arms slide lower, his fingers brushing lightly against Dorian’s reddened backside.  Dorian surged away from the touch, a little whimper escaping him.

“Shit, ok, sweetheart, let me get the cream from…” Bull said, spinning the chair and reaching into that cabinet of his that seemed to have everything in it, pulling out a white tube.  “Ok, we can either stay here or you can stretch out on the couch…”

Dorian burrowed closer, knowing the couch would probably be easier but he was warm and comfortable right here.

“…ok, here it is,” Bull chuckled, untangling his other arm from around Dorian’s waist and shifting him a little higher so that he reach all of Dorian’s backside.  Uncapping the cream, Bull spread a generous amount on his fingers before applying it to Dorian’s heated skin.

The cream was like ice against a sunburn, the relief so immediate Dorian sighed, muscles he hadn’t been aware were tense, loosening.  “Bull…”

“Like that do you?” Bull chuckled again, pausing then returning his fingers to Dorian’s ass, coating every inch of skin with a thin layer of cream.  Dorian sighed every time Bull’s fingers touched his skin, the feeling so pleasant he was unprepared for Bull to begin rubbing the cream in, the added pressure against his abused flesh making him whimper.  “Yeah, I know, baby, but you’ll be glad I did this tomorrow.  Just lay there and let me take care of you.”

Dorian bit his lip, knowing an order when he heard it, and forced himself to relax once more, his eyes closing as Bull rubbed the cream in, his entire palm cupping Dorian’s ass as he rubbed the cream in, his hands sliding from Dorian’s waist down across the curve of his butt until his fingers just touched his perineum before siding out and back up along the sides of his ass.  The initial painful pressure slowly faded into pleasure, Bull’s fingers working at his aching flesh, thumbs running down the crease of Dorian’s ass, strong fingers massaging the globe of his ass, skimming over his hole with only the lightest touch before moving on.

Dorian moaned, pushing back against Bull’s touch, wanting more, his hips thrusting forward as Bull’s fingers slid up the sides of his ass, only belatedly realizing he’d gotten hard as a rock from Bull’s ministrations.  He moaned again, lips skimming across the skin of Bull’s throat as his cock rubbed against Bull’s belly, the Dom’s own cock firming beneath him, pressing against his balls as he sat in Bull’s lap.

“Like that, do you?” Bull purred, continuing to run his hands down Dorian’s ass, his thumb pressing harder against his hole as it slid past.  “You’ve been so good, you want to come?”

Dorian nodded rapidly, moaning and pressing a lazy, open mouthed kiss to Bull’s throat, his tongue licking a path across his collarbone.

“Ok, sweet boy, ok, sit up for me and I’ll…”

Dorian shook his head, holding tighter to Bull as the Dom chuckled.  “Ok, change in plan, but you’re gonna have to let me go…”

Dorian did as he was asked, a little gasp escaping him as Bull easily flipped him over, shifting Dorian so his back was against Bull’s chest, his body pressed so tight against Bull’s hips he could feel Bull’s cock press against the cleft of his ass.  Wiggling his hips, Dorian moaned as he felt Bull harden further, the pressure against his abused skin a sharp counterpoint to the pleasure of Bull’s hand curling around his cock.  “Please, Sir…”

“Hush, I told you, I’ll take care of you,” Bull whispered against Dorian’s ear, nipping at the lobe as his hand began stroking Dorian, the cream easing the slide which was good because Bull wasn’t teasing, his fist tight around Dorian’s length, his wrist twisting as he reached the crown just the way Dorian liked.

Moaning deep, Dorian’s hands searched for purchase, eventually curling into Bull’s thick thighs, his legs falling open on the outside of Bull’s while Bull’s other hand cupped his balls, those long fingers of his teasing Dorian's hole every time his other hand slid down Dorian’s cock.

“Sir…”

“I know, baby, I know.  Fuck you look so good all spread out for me here…”

“Sir…Sir…please…”  Dorian babbled, his head thrashing against Bull’s shoulder, a long shudder coursing down his spine when Bull ran his thumb over the crown, his blunt claw pressing gently into the slit as Bull stroked down.  Gasping, Dorian thrust his hips up.  “Again…please, Sir…please…”

“Fuck, Dorian, the things you do to me,” Bull growled, his hand sliding from Dorian’s balls to his hip, holding him securely while Bull thrust up against him twice, each move mirrored by Bull jerking his cock, his claw dragging against that spot again, just the right side of painful and then he was gone, his chest arching as he cried out, painting his chest with thick, hot stripes of come.

Falling back against Bull’s chest, Dorian shook as Bull continued stroking him, encouraging the last little bit of come from his cock and swiping it up with his finger before raising it to Dorian’s lips.  Dorian’s tongue darted out, drawing a deep moan from Bull as his tongue swirled around Bull’s finger, the tart taste of his own spend exploding in his mouth.   “Fuck, you look so sexy, Dorian.  Make me want to taste you myself.”

Dorian whimpered at the desire that laced the Dom’s words, his one grey eye blown almost black as he scooped up another bit of come and fed it to Dorian.  Sucking Bull’s finger into his mouth, with just a subtle hint of teeth, Dorian cleaned himself off Bull’s skin as he felt Bull’s cock twitch beneath him.

Dorian released Bull’s finger with a pop.  “I should return the...” Dorian whispered, trying to slide down the Dom’s body so he could kneel before him only to find himself pinned in place by Bull’s arms.

“I’m good,” Bull whispered, shifting Dorian himself so that his legs were together with Dorian sitting sideways on his lap instead of straddling him, his cheek once again resting at Bull’s throat.

“But…”

“Rest, I’ve put you through a lot tonight.  I promise, you can make it up to me another time,” Bull chuckled, his hand stroking up Dorian’s arm.  “Shhhhh, relax, sweetheart.”

Dorian frowned, his eyes already closing.  Maybe Bull was right, just a short rest…

 

Dorian was woken up by a low rumbling in his ear, Bull’s voice a hushed growl.  “There was nothing wrong with Lina, Krem.”

Shit, were they not alone?  Dorian stayed still, a soft sigh threatening to break free when he realized that he was at least covered by a blanket.

“I’m not saying there was, Chief.  I’m just saying that Madelina was never a good fit for you, and the way things ended just proved it.  That doesn’t mean you should be so damn blind when someone who _is_ compatible shows up.”

Dorian frowned slightly, unable to help himself.  Just who was Madelina?

“What do you know about compatible, Krem?  You and Lace are still dancing around…”

“Yeah, well, if I ever end up with Lace draped across my lap like that…” Dorian stiffened at what he assumed was Krem nodding at him.  “…well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be stupid enough to pretend it wasn’t happening.”

“That’s enough, Krem,” Bull growled, Dorian’s body shifting as the Dom freed a hand and slapped it on the table.  “Here, take this to Stitches.  Tell him I want him to take inventory of what he needs, I’ll be placing an order on Monday.”

Dorian heard an exasperated sigh, then the creaking of a chair.  “Fine, Chief.  I get it.  I’m just saying maybe it’s time you stopped punishing yourself for something that was both your faults.”

“Get out of my office, Krem,” Bull said icily, his tone brooking no argument.

Apparently Krem agreed because all Dorian heard was the stomp of feet across the floor and the quiet closing of the door.

“How long you been awake?”

Kaffas.  The thought of lying only lasted as long as it took him to shift his still sore ass against Bull’s thigh.  “Not long.”

“Long enough, I’ll bet,” Bull huffed, stroking a hand up Dorian’s arm.  “How you feeling?”

“Like I got my ass beaten by a Dom and enjoyed every minute of it.”

Bull snorted, shaking his head.  “Watch the sass or I’ll turn you over my knee again without the happy ending.”

“Spoilsport,” Dorian pouted, then grinned, stretching before sliding off Bull’s lap and standing, testing his muscles after being immobile for so long.

“Yeah, yeah, evil Dom,” Bull grinned back before sobering.  “Now, drop the blanket and let me take a look at you.”

Dorian did as Bull requested, biting back a little groan as Bull’s finger stroked over his ass, inspecting every inch of it before sitting back and sighing.  “You’ll be fine.  You might want more cream tonight but there’s no bruising and the redness should be gone by morning.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian whispered, just a little disappointed.  He kind of like having a bruise or two to remind him of nights like tonight…even if they did eventually fade.

“You can get dressed,” Bull said, his tone so unusually bland it had Dorian turning to look at him over his shoulder.  Before he could say anything, Bull stood, smacked Dorian lightly on the ass.  “Go on, now.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian repeated, telling himself he was probably over-thinking things as he quickly put on his clothes then turned to find Bull still standing there, holding the discarded blanket.

Skirting the edge of the desk, Dorian approached the dom, plucking the blanket from his hands and folding it neatly before placing it on the corner of the desk.  “Are you ok, Bull?”

Bull startled, shaking his head before giving Dorian a rueful grin.  “Yeah, sorry, just a little lost in thought,” he admitted, pulling Dorian close and pressing a kiss to his temple.  “You were perfect tonight, thank you.”

Dorian relaxed.  “Thank you, Sir.  I’ll see you next week.”

“Absolutely,” Bull nodded, releasing Dorian and grabbing for the cream still sitting in the middle of the desk.  “Don’t forget this, can’t have you thinking I really _am_ an evil Dom.”

“Perish the thought.”


	5. Sometimes Submission Wraps Tight Around You

Dorian stood in front of the door to Bull’s office, several minutes early due to a combination of excitement and trepidation.  Because tonight, unlike the week’s prior, Dorian knew exactly what would be happening the moment he walked through that door...

 

_Dorian had just finished his office hours for the day and was busy stuffing the last of the essays concerning the eventual ramifications of the Kathaban assault on Tevinter in 9:12 Dragon for his Conflicts through the Ages: Tevinter and Par Vollen lecture when his phone rang.  Shoving aside the papers he’d just thrust into his bag he dug for his phone which had of course migrated to the bottom of the bag during the day, swiping his thumb across it just as the papers he needed to grade cascaded to the floor.  “Kaffas.  Yes?”_

_His phone just about joined the essays when he heard Bull’s deep laugh coming from the other end of the line.  “You really do have an issue with the swearing.”_

_“Vish…” Dorian hissed, breaking off quickly and swallowing before continuing, “sorry about that, I’ve just managed to mingle thirty two essays into one which will no doubt take me more hours to separate than it will to eventually read and grade.”_

_“You know they make things for that, staples I believe they’re called.”_

_“Yes, yes, and then I have to fold each page at the top or carry around one of those Maker forsaken little objects to remove them and then another stapler to reattach them and seriously, is there a point to your calling?”_

_Another bark of laughter exploded in Dorian’s ear, making him roll his eyes in a way he’d never dare to in the dom’s presence._

_“Actually yes,” Bull chuckled.  “Though if I’d know how entertaining bothering you could be I might have called even without an excuse.”_

_“Perish the thought,” Dorian drawled, the hint of a smile curling his lips._

_“I can hear you smiling from here.”_

_“You can prove nothing,” Dorian huffed, having to bite his lip to stop the smile from growing.  “Now, what was this reason you supposedly had for calling?”_

_“Yeah, uh, about that,” Bull stammered, his tone carrying a note of hesitation Dorian had never heard from the Dom before.  “See, we had a guest lecturer scheduled this week, an Antivan who’s considered a master when it comes to tattooing and branding and he had to cancel unexpectedly.  Normally I’d just announce that the demonstration had been cancelled but I already know of several members who are coming into town specifically for the event so I was thinking maybe we could change it.  It’s been awhile since I held a shibari demo and your paperwork says it’s something you’re interested in so what’da ya think?”_

_Dorian slammed down onto his office chair with a little grunt, his mind racing.  Yes, shibari was something he had always been fascinated with and he knew that The Iron Bull was considered a master at the art.  It was one of the reasons he’d joined Talan to begin with, after hearing that Bull held demonstrations occasionally.  But public displays were one of his soft limits.  And yes, technically he had already scened in public with Bull the first night they’d been together but he hadn’t been the center of attention that time.  Kaffas, he just wasn’t certain he was ready to…_

_“Dorian…you there, Big Guy?”_

_Shit, he wanted an answer.  “Uhmmm…”_

_“Hey, listen, it’s ok if you aren’t comfortable with this.  I know public demonstrations are a soft limit for you, I just thought…”_

_“No, it’s not that, it’s just that…” Dorian broke off, unable to force himself to finish.  Anything he could say just sounded so pathetic.  No one likes me.  No one sees me as a valid sub.  I’m more trouble than I’m worth._

_Silence stretched out for several long moments then Dorian heard Bull drawl in a deep breath, exhaling slowly before asking quietly, “Just tell me one thing, Dorian.  Is this something_ you _want?”_

_Sweet Andraste but it was.  “Yes.”_

_“Then trust me with the rest of it.  Can you do that?”_

_Dorian was surprised to find the answer to that was even easier.  “Yes.”_

_“Good, then I’ll see you Friday at nine.”_

Dorian smiled, the memory of that confidence flooding him anew as he looked at his watch and found that the minute hand was about to tick over to one minute after nine.  Fasta vass.  He hurriedly knocked, barely making contact with the wood before he officially became late.

“Come in.”

Dorian stumbled to a stop so quickly the door caught him on the shoulder, driving a little grunt from him and reminding him not to stand and stare even though it was impossible to take his eyes off Bull tonight.  Rather than sitting at his desk, the Dom was currently stand next to it, a long expanse of dusky rose colored rope currently being coiled around one huge, muscled…bare forearm.  Bare like the rest of Bull’s chest, that broad expanse of grey skin taunting Dorian to touch and kiss and worship all the way down to the waistband of the tight fitting black leather pants Bull had on.  Fasta vass, Bull had never worn leather for their sessions but fuck if he didn’t wear it as well as he wore everything else…full of power and strength and enough command just standing there that Dorian was having trouble staying on his feet, let alone moving across the room to join him.

Dorian wasn’t certain if Bull was trying to help or hinder him when after watching Dorian approach for a moment he turned his attention back to the rope.  Kaffas, just watching the man’s muscles was overwhelmingly tempting, the way Bull’s skin moved, the rise and fall of each one as he twisted the rope around his hand before setting it down beside the growing pile.  Picking up another piece, Bull nodded towards the pair of chairs that sat in front of his desk.  “Strip.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian spit out, hurrying to his usual spot between the chairs, removing his clothes by rote now, only hesitating when he reached his briefs.  If it were a private scene he would have them off already but the last time Bull had taken him into the club he’d had him leave them on.  “Sir?”

Bull looked up from the ropes laid out neatly before him, a hint of irritation in his expression that was quickly banished with a sly grin.  “Off today.”

Dorian drew in a deep breath. He’d been afraid of that.  And if truth be told, moderately excited by the thought. “Yes, Sir.”

When Dorian was left standing bare before Bull the Dom looked him over carefully, closing the distance between them and draping a short piece of rope across Dorian’s shoulders, letting it fall against his chest.  Dorian shivered at the cold sensation, the rope far gentler on his skin than he’d anticipated.  “I knew my color would look good on you,” Bull chuffed, nodding at the rope.  “I have it made custom, a cotton blend rather than jute, let’s you wear the rope longer.”

Glancing down, Dorian was surprised to find Bull was right, the soft rose a pale compliment to his own copper toned skin.

“Looking forward to getting you wrapped fully in it,” Bull admitted, the tips of his fingers stroking across the full width of Dorian’s shoulder.  “You still alright with this?”

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian stuttered as Bull tugged at one end of the rope, letting it slide across the back of Dorian’s neck and watching with a little grin as Dorian tried, and failed, to suppress a shiver.

“Even though it’s a demonstration the same rules apply, safe word if you need to and if I have doubts I’ll check in with you.  We’re expecting a full house tonight so somewhere about ninety to a hundred members.  If it gets too much you _will_ let me know.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian said more certainly, his brows drawing together slightly as Bull turned to place the ropes carefully into a bag, adding a second smaller leather case to the top of the pile before zipping it shut and turning towards Dorian.  “Follow.”

Dorian followed Bull down the hallway towards the large room the pair of them usually scened in, stepping through and into what Dorian had dubbed the vanilla hallway and across to go down the stairs.  With each step Dorian relaxed more, realizing that while Bull obviously intended to bind him naked, he wasn’t exactly parading him through the center of the club that way.  Dorian let out a quiet sigh, acknowledging that while he trusted Bull, there was still a small part of him that kept expecting the large Dom to let him down.  It really was a bad habit to have…self-fulfilling prophecies and all.

From the bottom of the stairs they entered the hallway that led to the private rooms, Bull taking them all the way to the end before slipping through a door Dorian had never noticed that opened onto another plain white hallway, this one only the length of two room with only one exit at either end.  He knew roughly where they were but when they moved from that hallway back into the more ornately decorated ones of the club Dorian was mildly amused to find that they were only steps from the demonstration room, the door to which lay opposite the one to the library.  He snorted a little laugh, gaining him Bull’s attention and that infamous arched brow.  “Forgive me, it just seems as though my journey has come full circle,” Dorian admitted, nodding towards the library he hadn’t stepped foot in in over a month now.  Kaffas, it seemed so far away.

Bull smiled and drew the back of one finger down Dorian’s cheek.  “You deserve to be displayed as the gorgeous sub you are rather than hidden away in in a library.”

“It is a lovely library.”

“You can take the historian out of the office…” Bull chuckled and shook his head, dropping his hand to rest at the base of Dorian’s back.  “Come on, I’d like to get you setup before Krem lets everyone in.”

Dorian paused for a moment in the doorway, his eyes going to the eight rows of chairs that had been setup in front of the raised platform.  There was enough space next to each chair to hold a small dark pink tufted pillow just in case there were subs who preferred to kneel at their Dom’s feet and Dorian couldn’t help but be intimidated at the thought of so many people watching him.  He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t him they’d be watching but Bull who intended to demonstrate the knots as he formed them and answer some questions as time permitted, but it was hard to get past the thought of allowing so many people to see him submit, see him vulnerable.

Dorian barely heard the soft whump of Bull’s bag hitting the ground before Bull’s hands were curling around his shoulders, warm and comforting.  “Just remember no matter how many people are sitting in those chairs the only ones that matter are the ones on stage,” Bull whispered against his ear.  “Just me getting to show them all just how beautiful you are in your submission.”

Kaffas, Dorian about melted into the floor right then, Bull’s words curling around him and warming him as he nodded.  “See, such a sweet sub.  I promise you’re going to enjoy this,” Bull whispered against his throat, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of his neck before releasing him and reaching for the bag he’d abandoned a moment ago.  “Go on, up on stage with you.”

Dorian squeaked as Bull’s hand connected with his ass, leaving a pleasant sting behind as he hurried to do as Bull requested, allowing the large Dom to position him sideways to the chairs so that the audience could see the knots Bull worked in front and back, and right in the center on the platform so that Bull had room to maneuver around him as needed.  Dorian watched as Bull removed his ropes from his bag, laying them out carefully in some pattern known only to him before turning his attention once more to Dorian.

Club members were just starting to filter in when Bull squatted down next to him, his broad chest all Dorian could see as the Dom whispered, “For tonight you may look down if that helps you focus or close your eyes.  Don’t try to anticipate what I want you to do, just remain loose and let me position you the way I need you to be.  I doubt there will be a problem with the pattern I’ve decided on but if you feel any numbness or discomfort, safeword and let me know, ok?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Bull’s large palm cupped his cheek, tilting Dorian’s head up to meet his eye.  “I’m proud of you, Dorian.  I know that this is hard for you and I appreciate you trying.  Do your best and I’ll have a surprise for you for later.”

Dorian cocked his head curiously, his attempt to question Bull stymied by Bull’s thumb pressing against his lips.  “A surprise implies I’m not going to tell you what it is, brat,” Bull chuffed, the grin on his face and the finger lightly tapping at Dorian’s nose taking away any sting from the rebuke.

Dorian nodded, letting his head drop forward slightly when Bull released him.  Refusing to give in to the escape that closing his eyes offered, Dorian watched as Bull stood and moved to the side allowing Dorian see the filling room for the first time.  By now all of the seats in the first six rows were full and there were a large number of subs kneeling also.  Swallowing down a little frisson of panic, Dorian felt Bull’s thick hand curl around his neck, his eyes instinctively closing as Bull squeezed.   Releasing the tension he’d built, he told himself to ignore the sounds surrounding them and focus only on the Dom behind him, a goal that was easier to achieve when Bull finally began to speak.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming out tonight, especially considering I am nowhere near as attractive as our original guest...”

“Quit fishing, Chief…” Krem’s voice echoed through the room, followed by a raucous burst of laughter.

“Still not too late to get you up here instead, Krem Puff…”

“Only if you’re going to be the one wearing the ropes, Chief.”

Dorian struggled to keep from laughing, the image of Bull adorned in pink rope combined with the lighthearted mood in the room easing last of his uncertainty about being on display.

“Dream on, Kremsicle,” Bull chuckled, his hand reaching out to card through Dorian’s hair.  “Besides, I think we can all agree Dorian will look far better in them then I could ever hope to.”

A loud burst of agreement came from the audience and Dorian let their approval roll over him, his muscles relaxing as Bull’s claws scratched pleasantly at his scalp for a moment before he stepped away.

“And on that note, why don’t we begin?  You may notice I’m using cotton rope rather than tradition jute or hemp, that’s because…”

Dorian startled slightly when Bull’s hand curled around his wrist, his eyes flying open as he looked up into one bemused silver eye.  Bull arched that brow of his, tilting his head slightly and Dorian blushed, embarrassed to have been so caught up in the sound of Bull’s voice he hadn’t heard him approaching.  Nodding slightly, he watched Bull’s lips twitch in amusement before the Dom turned his attention back to the crowd, seamlessly continuing his discussion on the importance of correct placement when using shibari while he manipulated Dorian’s arms into place behind him.  Dorian’s hands were placed as if in prayer, palms together, fingers pointed up, as Bull looped a double strand of rope around his wrists and pulled it tight, moving in a continuous motion to wrap all four strands around Dorian’s arms, just above the elbow, then splitting the rope so that two strands ran across Dorian’s ribs in exactly the same spot, tying the first knot right over the spot where Dorian’s wrists met.

Dorian twitched his muscles minutely, enjoying the way the ropes slid across his skin while not allowing him to move so much as an inch.  It was oddly arousing and utterly relaxing, the combination of Bull’s voice describing what he was doing as those huge hands twisted the rope into intricate knots and weaves, his arms eventually pinned not only above the elbow but also across his shoulders and again right below the curve of his biceps.  His hands were framed by rope, knots sitting right below his shoulder blades marking the top corners that extended down to the restraints around his wrists.

Dorian felt himself sinking deeper as Bull pulled four strands of rope tight across his abdomen, right at the bottom of his ribs, the strands nipping into Dorian’s skin just enough that he was certain he’d have marks for at least a few hours once they were removed.  Deft fingers danced across his skin as Bull tied the knot to sit right against Dorian’s spine then looped it through the ropes around Dorian’s elbows, locking his wrists tight against his body.

“That ok?” Bull whispered, his voice a thick rumble against Dorian’s ear as he worked his fingers between Dorian’s wrists and back, testing the bind.

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian muttered sluggishly, wanting nothing more than to relax back against Bull and float.

“Soon,” Bull chuckled, making Dorian wonder if he’d actually spoken out loud, but before he could figure it out the Dom had moved away again, another wide band of rope curling around his waist and over his belly button before being linked to the knot above it and tied off.

Letting Bull’s words to the crowd pass by him, Dorian focused on the feel of the ropes as another strand was wrapped low across his hips, the knot sitting right at the base of his back, the set of knots stretching against him when he twitched like a second spine.  Idly, Dorian wondered if the ropes were all that were holding him together at the moment, if without them he’d simply melt into a puddle at Bull’s feet.  It was freeing in some ways, knowing that the ropes would hold him exactly where Bull wanted him, but in a different way he missed it being his decision whether to move or not.

Where he had expected the ropes to be more intimate than cuffs he was finding the opposite, as if the ropes themselves were forming a barrier between he and Bull.  Kaffas, he thought, biting at the inside of his lip to stop his morose thoughts, he was in the middle of a public demonstration, that was undoubtedly why he felt that way. If it were just he and Bull certainly it would be different.  He might have to ask Bull to…

Dorian gasped slightly as Bull’s palm skated over his half-hard cock.  “You with me?” the Dom purred against his ear, Bull’s arms wrapping around him as he trailed two double lines of rope diagonally across Dorian’s hips and worked into a knot that he took time to settle just so against Dorian’s perineum before pulling all four ropes up the crack of Dorian’s ass and tying them off to the lowest row ropes.

Dorian moaned at the pressure the knot put on his sensitive skin, each twitch of a muscle pulling it tighter as Bull ran his fingertips across Dorian’s ass between the rope and Dorian’s skin, the increased tension tightening each strand of rope all the way up to his wrists.  Fasta vass, what had he been thinking?   Distant?  It was like Bull was touching him everywhere and nowhere at the same time…

“So good for me, just a minute longer,” Bull told him, the Dom’s hand curling possessively over Dorian’s hip for a moment before sliding away.  “And that concludes the demonstration for tonight.  I want to thank you again for coming, if you have any questions Krem will be happy to field them for you and I’ll get back with you later...I’m afraid I’ll be tied up for the rest of the night.”

A loud groan erupted from the crowd and Dorian heard several people thank Bull as the sound of chairs scraping and people filing out filled the room.  Finally daring to open his eyes, Dorian chose to focus on the rose colored ropes now decorating his body.  Shifting his hips to see how the rope rolled and pressed into his skin, Dorian bit back a gasp as the knot situated behind his balls pressed tighter also.  The sensation made his cock fill out fully, the crown now brushing against the lowest set of ropes like Bull had planned it that way and knowing the Dom, he probably had.

Forcing himself to remain still when all he wanted was to rut his hips forward and try to force the ropes to provide more of that delicious friction took everything Dorian had, his teeth nipping hard at his bottom lip as he struggled to be good.  It seemed like it took forever for Bull to be standing before him, Dorian’s head tipping back as his eyes skimmed up the length of Bull’s powerful thighs encased in black leather past the point where his grey skin appeared, covered in a fine sheen of sweat from his demonstration and the warm spotlights, all the way up to Bull’s face that was peering down at Dorian with a pleased expression.

Sighing softly, Dorian felt heat curl through his body even before Bull reached out to cup his cheek and whisper, “Good boy.”

The pair stared at each other for several moments, Bull’s thumb pulling slightly at Dorian’s lip, freeing it from his punishing bite before sliding higher and brushing it across his cheek several times.  Squatting down before Dorian, Bull pressed a light kiss to his lips then grinned.  “You were perfect tonight, Dorian.  So good for me.  I think you deserve that surprise I mentioned.  What do you think?”

Dorian’s eyes lit up, he had forgotten that bit in the rush of experiencing ropes for the first time.  “Yes, please.”

“So polite all of a sudden,” Bull chuckled, moving his hand to Dorian’s chin and tilting his head to the right then the left.  “And how are you feeling?  Anything hurt?”

“No.  Elbows are a little achy but not bad yet.”

“That should be ok, we won’t be too long at this,” Bull nodded, letting Dorian go before standing and moving out of sight.  “So when I was looking at your lists I couldn’t help but see this listed as something you’d like to try.”

Dorian’s mind raced, trying to think about what was on his ‘wish list’ so to speak, the only thing he could think of was…

“Figure it out yet?” Bull asked, setting a small tray down next to him bearing a wide variety of things that only confirmed Dorians suspicions.  Grinning, Bull reached for the leather case, pulling the knot out of the leather tie and unwinding it before unrolling the leather to display a set of stainless steel sounds.

“Kaff..uhmmm…” Dorian moaned, barely managing to bite the curse off in what he hoped was time.  Fasta vass, he’d wanted to play with sounding for ages but there had been no one he trusted since Rilienus and he hadn’t been interested in something he declared far too much about Dorian’s pleasure to interest him.  Batting his eyelashes at Bull in hopes that the Dom would ignore the almost curse, Dorian whispered, “Yes, please.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”  Bull’s lips curled in a broad smile as he reached for the thin gloves on the corner of the tray.  “Latex free,” he stated, pulling them on carefully.  “And just so we’re clear, this is your first time and the position isn’t exactly ideal but I wanted to see you do this wearing my ropes so…”

“I’ll be still,” Dorian assured him, spreading his legs a little further apart as Bull ripped open the packaging for an alcohol wipe and plucked the second smallest sound out of the case, wiping it thoroughly before reaching towards the contain of sterile lube just like the ones kept in every room in the club.

“I know you will,” Bull said confidently, slathering the sound with lube and wiping a little bit of the overage onto the top of Dorian’s cock.  “Now, remember to breathe.”

Bull might as well have asked him to recite the list of every known Archon through the ages because once the sound touched him he could focus on nothing but the intimidating sight of that flashing bit of steel against his cock.  The way it slid against his slit before catching on the hole then sliding in so smoothly Dorian couldn’t bite back the gasp of surprise.

Bull froze.  “You ok?”

“Yes, sorry,” Dorian gasped, trying to reconcile what he was seeing with the small amount of pressure he was feeling, only belatedly remembering to tack on, “Sir.”

Bull huffed out a breath, the hand around Dorian’s cock tightening as he moved it slightly and let the sound slip farther in.  Fasta vass, it was like nothing Dorian had ever felt before, his cock sandwiched between callused palm and cool lube and steel, the sound slipping in another inch before Bull pulled it back up a bit, slicking the length of it with more lube and letting it drop again.

Another stuttered moan fell from his lips as Bull repeated the process over and over, twisting his fingers to turn the sound as it rose before letting it fall naturally back down, pressure building in in Dorian’s balls as surely as in his cock as the steel worked its way down his length.

“Look at you, stuffed full,” Bull whispered reverently, his thumb running down the length of Dorian’s cock, pressing firmly against the sound while his other hand twisted it slowly up and down.

“Sweet Maker…” Dorian sighed as Bull fucked him with the sound, pulling the hard steel almost all the way out before letting it slide back in, over and over.  “Please, Bull…Sir…please…please…”

“What’s the matter, baby?  Need me to stop?”

Dorian shook his head…then nodded…then shook it again.  He needed…he needed…kaffas…he barely recognized the whine as coming from him, his head dropping forward as tears sprang to his eyes.  “Pleeease…”

“Look at me,” Bull growled, the seriousness in his tone having Dorian obeying instantly, his eyes locking onto Bull’s one grey orb, now blown almost black.  Dorian felt Bull pull the sound from him, vaguely heard it hit the tray and then Bull’s hands were on him again, warm and gloveless, one cupped firmly behind his neck and the other jacking him firmly as Bull lowered his head until their foreheads touched.  “That what you need, sweetheart?”

Dorian keened, his eyes watching Bull as the heat that had been building in his core started to gather, Bull’s hand warm and firm around him and then the hand at his neck shifted, one finger slipping under the knot at his shoulder, pulling up slightly and forcing the knot harder against his perineum, the ropes tightening against his balls and he was gone, streams of come coating the ropes, his chest and Bull’s hand as the Dom continued stroking him through his orgasm, milking the last of his come until Dorian’s entire body shivered and relaxed.

He watched, half dazed as Bull raised his hand, an offering Dorian had no intention of ignoring.  Bull’s eye went impossibly darker as Dorian licked a broad stripe across Bull’s hand, the slightly bitter taste of his own spend coating Dorian’s tongue.  With a wicked gleam in his eye, Bull tugged Dorian closer and kissing him lazily, his tongue sweeping in to share the salty taste of Dorian’s come with him.

“What do you say I get you out of these ropes?” Bull grinned, his breath hot against Dorian’s lips when the need for air finally forced them apart.

“Please,” Dorian whispered back, his grin a little shaky but no less sincere.  “And thank you, Sir.”

Bull’s eye widened slightly and he dipped back down for another kiss, this one sweet and lingering before releasing Dorian and moving around behind him so he could see the knots he systematically began to unravel.  The Dom, taking even longer freeing Dorian than he had binding him, ran his fingers gently over the little creases the ropes left in Dorian’s skin and rubbed at muscles sore from their imprisonment, his gentle hands rotating Dorian’s joints carefully to ensure there would be no lasting damage.

By the time Bull freed his wrists, Dorian was certain he was turning into that puddle he’d feared earlier, his body cradled in between Bull’s thighs, back against Bull’s chest as the Dom paid extra attention to his forearms and wrists, massaging each one thoroughly as Dorian practically purred.  “Could get used to this,” he whispered, brows knitting slightly as he felt Bull tense behind him.

“You’re like a spoiled cat,” Bull chuckled, kissing his temple and moving his attention to Dorian’s right arm and hand.

Dorian snorted but didn’t bother moving, letting Bull continue to pamper him until finally the Dom slapped his hands down on Dorian’s thighs lightly.  “Alright, Big Guy, think you can stand up?”

“Of course,” Dorian huffed, letting Bull stand first and help pull him upright, his muscles protesting after having spent so long kneeling but not buckling.  He took it as a victory.  Pampered house cat, indeed.

So pleased was he with his own success he wasn’t prepared for Bull to sweep him off his feet, lifting him into a bridal carry like he had all those weeks ago.  Squawking indignantly, Dorian hushed when Bull’s arms tightened around him, the Dom’s voice sending a delicious shiver up his spine as chided, “Let me do this for you.”

Well, if he wanted to put it that way, Dorian relaxed letting his head lean against Bull’s shoulder, his nose buried in the crick of his neck so he could breathe in Bull’s now familiar musky scent.  As they backtracked through the hallways and rooms they’d come through earlier Dorian felt himself slipping farther, his muscles pleasantly relaxed and his mind blessedly quiet as Bull took him into his office and laid him on the couch, covering him with a blanket before going to get them both bottles of water.

Taking the lid off Dorian’s, Bull handed his to him then tipped his head back and guzzled half his own bottle in one long, slow swallow that had Dorian’s cock twitching again beneath the blanket.  Sweet Andraste, it should be a sin for a man to look that good just consuming a beverage.  Shaking his head, Dorian sipped at his own water as Bull returned to his earlier ministrations, rubbing his knuckles against the back of Dorian’s knee and massaging the muscles in his thigh and calf one leg at a time until Dorian was fully convinced he was boneless.  “I hope you don’t expect me to walk now,” he drawled when Bull finally laid his left leg down next to his right, covering them both with the blanket.

“Well I suppose I could carry you to the car but you might want to put your clothes on first,” Bull chuckled, polishing off the last of his water before regarding Dorian thoughtfully.  “I seriously would like to drive you home tonight if that’s alright with you.  There are some things we should discuss and it’s getting late.”

Dorian sighed softly and dropped his head back against the arm of the couch.  “If this is the point where you tell me my cock’s going to fall off just keep that to yourself and let me die happy.”

Bull chuffed out a little laugh and shook his head.  “I’m not sure if I’m more bothered that you think that’s a possibility or that you actually don’t care.”

Dorian shrugged, a wicked grin curling his lips.  “What can I say, Sir, you’re just that good.”

Bull’s laugh this time was full and deep, his hand coming out to tap Dorian’s nose.  “Brat.”

“Yes, yes,” Dorian agreed lazily, extending and arm and letting Bull help him sit up.  “Now dress me and I’ll let you take me home.”

“I take it back,” Bull drawled with a shake of his head.  “You’re a _spoiled_ brat.”

Dorian would have taken offense if the Dom hadn’t stood and made his way towards Dorian’s clothes, returning with them and helping him into his pants and shirt before leaving him to negotiate his own way into shoes so that Bull could shrug into a black tee shirt that Dorian had no clue how he got on over those horns of his even having watched it occur.  Holding his hand out, Bull grinned.  “Ready?”

Not having stopped by the locker room on the way in, Dorian nodded and allowed Bull to lead him out of the office and down to the entrance room where Dalish happily took his band back and wished them both a good night.

Stepping outside, Dorian shivered, unhappy to notice the sharp nip in the air that said winter was coming.  Snorting softly, Bull wrapped an arm around his shoulders, the Dom’s heat driving away the cool night air as he led Dorian to the solid black Charger he’d often admired when he’d come to the club.  Kaffas, he should have known the car belonged to Bull, it practically screamed Dom even if it wasn’t Bull’s trademark pink.  Letting Bull settle him in the passenger seat, Dorian blamed a long day for the fact he even allowed Bull to buckle his seatbelt, making sure to adjust it just so over his shoulder before closing the door and moving to the driver side.

Bull hit the keyless starter then laid his wrist over the steering wheel and looked at Dorian.  “So, where to, Big Guy?”

Dorian gave him his address, pausing so that Bull could put the address into the GPS then laid his head back against the headrest, his eyes watching the way Bull’s hand flexed around the steering wheel as he drove.  Once they were out of the parking lot and onto the long stretch of road that lead most of the way to Dorian’s, Bull spoke.  “So, those concerns…”

“Do you have to put it that way?”

“Yeah, well, no good way to talk about your dick hurting.”

“Kaff…” Dorian bit off, glancing up at Bull’s face before deciding they were far enough outside a scene to chance it.  “Fasta vass, you’re going to make it hurt.”

“Thought I already did,” Bull chuckled, glancing over at Dorian and nodding slightly which Dorian took to mean he’d been right about the cursing being fair game outside a scene.  “Seriously, though, sounding’s not much different from any other type of penetration if it’s done right but there’s still things to consider.  A slight burning when you piss, especially tonight, is to be expected as is trace…and I mean almost non-existent, amounts of blood in your urine.  Anything worse than that or any fevers or cramping and you go to Quick Care, got it?”

Dorian’s rolled eyes and sigh were mostly for show, and the bits that weren’t were more about his own reluctance to discuss such things openly rather than any irritation at Bull.  “Yes, Sir.  If my dick falls off don’t wait to die, go to the ER.”

“ _Dorian…_ ”

“I understand, Bull, really,” Dorian said sincerely, reaching out to lay his hand on Bull’s thigh.  “And thank you for tonight, it wasn’t what I expected.”

Bull glanced at him but remained silent, his attention returning to the road quickly.  Just about the time Dorian decided he was going to let the comment go he finally asked, “In what way?”

Sighing softly, Dorian tried to put his earlier thoughts about the ropes into words.  “I thought I’d enjoy the shibari more than I did,” he finally admitted, surprised to find Bull tensing beside him.  “It wasn’t bad, it just felt...cold compared to being strung up.  Like there was something between us I couldn’t break through.”

Bull hummed noncommittally, reaching out to turn the heater on as he saw Dorian shiver.  Finally he asked softly, “That what kept you from subspace?  I thought maybe it was the crowd.”

Dorian angled one of the vents towards himself before relaxing again.  “Honestly, I tuned them out early on.  I just couldn’t quite get into the right head space.”

Bull nodded, his attention focused on the traffic that got heavier the closer to the university they got.  Dorian closed his eyes, giving in to the soft lull of the moving car, his voice no more than a whisper when he added, “I’d like to try it again sometime…”

Dorian huffed as the warm breeze that had been blowing over his skin turned cold, his comfortable bed shaking beneath him.

“Come on, Handsome, help me out a little.”

Odd, his bed wasn’t supposed to talk.

“Dorian, come on, Big Guy, up and at ‘em.”

Dorian gasped as he was hefted up into a pair of strong arms, Bull’s arms, he remembered, cracking his eyes open to find that the Dom had scooped him out of the passenger seat and was currently walking towards the door to Dorian’s townhome.  “Kaffas, I’m sorry,” he muttered, his body shaking when Bull’s chest rumbled with laughter.

“I hope your smoke alarm is industrial strength,” Bull chuckled, taking the two steps up the walk in a single large stride.  “Cause you sleep like the dead.”

Dorian groaned, burying his head against Bull’s throat.  Lovely, all he needed to hear now was that he’d drooled on Bull’s leather seats and his mortification would be complete.

“Hey, no going back to sleep sleepyhead, I need your key.”

“No key,” Dorian muttered as Bull came to a stop before his door.  “Code’s three one four one five nine.”

Bull snorted and punched in the code.  “Pi?  Really?”

Dorian felt his cheeks flush even as his eyes widened slightly.  He’d lived here three years and of couple handfuls of people he’d given that code to Felix was the only other one who’d recognized it.  Before Dorian could come up with an explanation that didn’t make him look like Thedas’s biggest geek, Bull stepped into his living room and let the door slide shut behind him.

“Where to, princess?”

Dorian huffed, thinking he preferred pampered cat to that one, but waved his arm towards the hallway to their right.  “Last door on the left.”

He was only slightly surprised when Bull carried him all the way to his bed, laying Dorian down on it gently before reaching for Dorian’s foot and removing his shoes, placing them at the foot of the bed.  Smiling softly, he whispered, “Thank you, Bull.”

“No problem, Dorian,” Bull whispered back, sitting down on the edge of the bed and brushing the hair back off Dorian’s forehead.  “Thank you for tonight.  I appreciate you participating even though it public play is a sticking point for you.”

“It’s good to push limits sometimes,” Dorian muttered, curling up on his side, his knees against Bull’s spine.  He was warm and comfortable and Bull’s fingers felt good carding gently through his hair and later he would curse every one of those things for being the reason he whispered, “Was that the problem with Madelina?”

Bull’s fingers stilled against his skin then pulled away entirely.  “So, you were listening.”

“Just at the end,” he admitted, forcing his eyes to open a crack as he slid one hand under his head.  He debated leaving it at that before accepting that he’d never really been the sort to let something go.  “You don’t have to tell me, it’s just that Krem seemed to think you were holding back and…”

“Krem needs to learn to keep his mouth shut,” Bull grumbled, his attention riveted to some spot on Dorian’s floor.  “And you’re right, you don’t need to know about Lina.”

And that should end it except the hand that had been petting Dorian so gently only moments before was now squeezing Bull’s own thigh so hard Dorian was certain there’d be bruises.  Sighing softly, he sat up and reached for the hand in question, tugging at it until Bull relaxed his grip then lifting it and laying it far more gently back in the same spot.  “I’d like to believe that, Bull, but part of me has to wonder if that disconnect with us tonight was because of what Krem said.  You have to admit it’s a little suspicious that Krem accuses you of having walls up and tonight you test my limits with public play and exhibition as well as putting a physical barrier, even if it was just pretty rope between us.”

Bull finally looked over at him, his expression shuttered.  “It was just a demonstration, Dorian, not some deep dark ticket into my psyche.”

Dorian laughed then, a little bitter and a lot sad.  “Please, Bull you’re too smart to believe that.  Fuck, I cried last week while you had me turned over your lap like a disobedient child.”

“Yes, and that was _your_ issue not mine,” Bull hissed, the words hanging in the air like icicles from a winter roof, threatening to break free and plunge into Dorian’s exposed heart.  Knowing he’d gone too far, Bull ran a tired hand over his horn before reaching out towards Dorian.  “Shit, I didn’t mean it like that, Dorian.”

Too warm.  Too comfortable.  Too _good_.  Dorian should have known he was never allowed those things.  “Get out.”

Bull’s hand fell to the bed an inch short of touching him.  “Dorian, please, I didn’t mean…”

His bark of laughter this time was so brittle it was a wonder he didn’t start to bleed.  “Oh yes you did.  And the sad thing is if there’s only one thing I’ve learned in the time we’ve spent together it’s that I deserve better than that.  I deserve someone who is worthy of my submission and right now that’s not you.  So I need you to leave.”

Bull nodded slowly and stood, his steps to the door so slow Dorian could almost believe he was moving backwards.  Dorian started to breathe a sigh of relief when Bull reached the door, then the Dom paused, his fingers curled around the doorframe as though he were having difficulty actually stepping out of the room.  His tone, when he finally spoke, was wrecked, “You still owe me a week.”

Dorian’s breath escaped him on a sob.  “Yes, well, find me another Dom or cancel my membership, I don’t really care which right now.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (winces) Please don't boil me in oil or flay me alive...I'll fix it...I promise.


	6. It's All About Trust

Dorian sighed when his phone started vibrating in his pocket just as he started up the walkway, both hands busy juggling his briefcase, groceries and the two bottles of Sun Blonde Vint-1 he hadn’t been able to resist.  To be honest, after the last couple of weeks he hadn’t tried very hard, a little taste of home was sounding good right now and if it helped him escape his current reality for a while then so much the better.

Ignoring the call, it was undoubtedly either Felix or some carpet cleaning service determined to give him a ‘deal’ as it had been the last twenty times his phone rang, Dorian fumbled all his packages into one hand so that he could tap out the code for the front door.

“Vishante kaffas,” he swore under his breath when his pocket began vibrating again, pulling the phone out and swiping his thumb to answer it as he stepped into the living room.  “Maker’s mercy, Felix, what’s so important you can’t even let me get into the house?”

He kicked the door closed with his foot before rushing towards the kitchen, the faint sound of breathing the only reply to his query.  “Kaffas, this isn’t Felix, is it?”

A low, deep laugh came through the line, the packages Dorian had been carrying hitting the table at the same time as he whispered, “Bull?”

“Well, at least you’re not cursing my name, that’s more than I deserve.”

Dorian snorted, his back ramrod straight as he bit out, “Don’t tell me you found it necessary to let me know personally that my membership has been cancelled.”

“Shit, _no_ ,” Bull spit out, a soft rustling sound telling Dorian that the Dom was running his hand over his horn nervously.  “I uhm…crap, listen, I…that is…”

“I don’t mean to be rude, Bull, but it’s been a rather long day at the end of a horribly long week and I am…”

“I was wrong,” Bull spit out, the rustling sound occurring again before he continued, “when I said Lina was none of your business.  It’s just not a good memory for me and I lashed out.  I’m sorry.”

Dorian dropped down onto the chair next to him like a rock, his breath leaving him in a rush.  Truth be told he’d spent the better part of the last two weeks waiting for Bull to say exactly what he’d just said and now that the words were there between them Dorian wasn’t certain they were enough.

“Dorian?  You there, Big Guy?”

“I…yes, I’m here.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m gonna go out on a limb here and ask if you’d be willing to meet with me?”

Dorian wanted to say yes.  Wanted to pretend like his pride wasn’t still smarting from Bull’s comments and subsequent silence.  “I’m not sure that’s…”

“I’ve missed you the last couple of weeks…”

Vishante kaffas, the man didn’t play fair.  “Bull…”

He heard Bull draw in a sharp breath before speaking again.  “Damn, was hoping you’d at least let me explain before telling me no…”

Fasta vass, he wanted to.

“But I understand.  Take care of yourself…”

“Kaffas, you really don’t let a man get a word in edgewise do you?” Dorian growled, scowling at the table in front of him as he ran his thumb across the corner of the wood.

Bull chuffed.  “I don’t want to be that asshole who can’t take no for an answer.”

Dorian snorted.  Of all the ways Bull had to be an asshole, stalking wasn’t one Dorian had ever considered.  “I could spare some time on Friday night.”

He couldn’t be certain but Dorian thought he heard a relieved sigh come from the Dom before he quietly asked, “Nine pm?”

“I’ll be there.”

 

 

The problem, Dorian decided as he paced the hallway in front of Bull’s office on Friday night, was that he hadn’t thought to ask Bull what to expect of the evening.  Yes, certainly an explanation of Bull’s relationship with the elusive Madelina was a given, but beyond that, did Bull want to continue topping Dorian?  Did he just want to set the record straight before wishing Dorian well and showing him the door?  Would he offer to help Dorian find a new Dom or, perhaps the least likely as well as most stressful, would he tell Dorian that his membership in the club was being cancelled anyway for some reason known only to The Iron Bull himself?

“Kaffas,” Dorian muttered, casting a glance towards the door to Bull’s office as though the curse alone would cause the Dom to appear.  Another quick look at his watch had Dorian hustling to the door, knocking firmly on it before he could convince himself that it would be easier to simply go home and pretend he’d forgotten their meeting.

“Come in.”

Fasta vass.  A shiver coursed down Dorian’s spine at the roughly growled words.  Hand pressed flush against the heavy door for a moment, his mind flitting back over the scenes they’d shared.  Every single one of them intense and thrilling and all started with those two little words.

“I said come in.”

Dorian startled, an embarrassed flush warming his cheeks as the hand on the door curling into a fist, the other reaching for the knob as he hurriedly pushed the door open and stepped inside.  Head dipped down to hide his pink cheeks, Dorian moved across the room only to realize when he finally looked up that Bull wasn’t sitting behind, nor leaning against, that huge pink desk of his.  Stumbling to a stop, Dorian jumped when he heard Bull’s deep voice drawl, “Looking for someone?”

“Kaffas,” Dorian sputtered, spinning to find Bull lounging on the same blood red couch he’d placed Dorian on the night they’d met.  The Dom’s arched brow and pointed look had Dorian muttering a quick apology for the curse as he moved towards the seating area, only belatedly reminding himself that he wasn’t Bull’s sub at the moment and didn’t owe the larger man any such deference.

That reminder did nothing to stop his eyes from hungrily raking over every inch of the Dom.  Bull’s large form was covered tonight by a pair of black wool trousers and a dress shirt so pale pink it was almost white, the top two buttons opened so that Dorian could see Bull’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard and stood.  Now that he was looking, Dorian could see the tension held tight in Bull’s broad shoulders, the way his hands keep clenching and unclenching as though he wasn’t quite certain what to do with himself.  Dorian felt some of his own anxiety fade at the realization that The Iron Bull might possible be just as nervous as he was even if the big Dom was better at hiding it.  

Finally, his jaw setting in determination, Bull closed the distance between them and held out his hand.  “Thanks for coming tonight, to be honest I wasn’t sure you’d actually show up.”

It was Dorian’s turn to arch a brow, both at the uncharacteristic hesitance he heard in Bull’s tone and at the formality of a handshake.  Sliding his own hand into Bull’s much larger grasp he barely refrained from rolling his eyes as he drawled, “So good to know you’re expectations for me are so high.”

Bull scowled for a second before his eye widened and his grip on Dorian’s hand tightened.  “Shit, no, that’s not what I meant.  I just…”

Dorian huffed, shaking his head as he tugged his hand free of Bull’s grasp.  “It’s fine, Bull, I’m teasing…”

The Dom scoffed, his eye roaming over Dorian’s features as though looking for a lie before deflating with a faint sigh and a wry grin.  “Brat.”

Dorian dipped his head in acknowledgement but stayed silent, waiting until Bull returned to his spot on the couch and gestured for Dorian to join him before folding himself down on the opposite end of the couch.  Tucking his leg under him, Dorian turned towards Bull, taking in the larger man’s tense posture and the way his fingers drummed against the side of his thigh nervously as he waited for Bull to speak.

The silence between them had stretched on long enough to edge into uncomfortable when Bull finally spit out, “Met Lina, _Madelina_ , at The Bound Orlesian when this place was under construction.  Things were fucking crazy with the structural changes needed for the play rooms and the paperwork and insurance and finding suppliers for everything from booze to lube and finally Krem snapped.  Told me to get the fuck out and not come back til I’d gotten rid of the bags under my eyes and the tension in my shoulders.

“It was supposed to be easy.  Figured I’d find a willing sub and lose myself in them for a few hours, play until we were both sated and then get a few hours sleep before heading back here.  Instead I met Lina and…shit.”  Bull broke off with a nervous rub of his hand along his horn and a heavy sigh, casting a glance up at Dorian before returning his attention to the expanse of red leather between them.

“Wanna know what went through my mind when I first saw her?” Bull asked, his attention once again raising to Dorian, regret etched on his features.  Dorian nodded slowly.

“Thought she was the most beautiful service sub I’d ever seen.  All soft silk and perfumed skin.  Should’ve walked away right then, should’ve known she wasn’t for the likes of me.”

“Bull,” Dorian whispered, his hand reaching instinctively to close the distance between them.

Bull frowned at Dorian before nodding his head towards the door.  “It happened here, you know.  By that time Madelina and I’d been together for almost a year and living together for almost half that.  The club had only been open a few weeks and I was finally gonna have an entire night off to scene with Lina.  We’d discussed the scene beforehand and she said that she was looking forward to it…”

Bull broke off again, this time to rub a shaky hand over his face.  “Fuck, I don’t know how to tell this story without making it sound like I’m making excuses…”

“Why don’t you just keep going and we’ll worry about how it sounds later?” Dorian offered, moving an inch or so closer to Bull’s end of the couch.

Bull’s eye widened briefly and he held Dorian’s gaze for a long moment before nodding slowly and swiping his hand down his face again.  “Yeah, ok,” he finally agreed, sighing heavily again before continuing, “everything seemed fine as I warmed Lina up with a flogger and then a crop.  She looked good strung up on the cross, her toes barely touching the ground and her ass all red and ready when I switched to the cane.  Even so I checked in with her, reminded her of her safeword before I started because the cane was something we’d only used a couple of times and even then it’d only been a swat or two and this time…(sigh)…this time I’d told her it was about my pleasure, about her taking what I wanted to give her because I was her Dom.”

Dorian bit back an entirely inappropriate moan at the thought of Bull saying those same words to him.  It was a heady thought, to be nothing but a plaything for The Iron Bull’s needs…kaffas, now was not the time.  Shifting to hide his hardening cock, Dorian curled his own nails into his thighs, surprised his tone remained even when he asked, “What happened?”

Dorian fought a blush as Bull looked at him quizzically.  He was half convinced the Dom knew the effect he was having on Dorian though Bull’s next words betrayed nothing of it.  “Have you ever been caned?”

Dorian nodded.  “A time or two.”

“Then you know how hard it is to remain quiet once the cane’s kissed your skin a few times.”

Dorian nodded again but remained silent and Bull continued, “That’s what finally tipped me off.  I didn’t think anything of the first couple of taps, they were light enough and Lina could be stubborn but once I started in with strikes hard enough to leave a mark and I still got nothing out of her I knew something was wrong.  I’d just dropped the cane onto the table behind me when I smelled it, the thick tang of blood.  I hurried around to the other side of the cross and Lina’d bitten all the way through her lower lip in an attempt to keep from crying out...”

“Kaffas…”  Dorian muttered, the fact that Bull didn’t even glance at him proof enough of the Dom’s mental state.

“Fuck, I can still see her face when I close my eye, tears pouring down her cheeks, disappointment and pain in those emerald green eyes and blood pouring down her chin.  I pulled her off the cross and yelled for Stitches but there wasn’t much he could do, a couple of stitches and a prescription for antibiotics.  Krem pulled me out of the room, brought Dalish in to sit with Lina because I was in no condition to take care of her.  Somehow it all came out then, how Lina had felt like she had to agree to the scene because we were in a contract even though she hated the cane and hadn’t wanted things to go that far.  How she ignored her own needs because I was her Dom and what I needed was more important.”

Dorian couldn’t hide the breath he drew in through gritted teeth.  He couldn’t help but think about his own first meeting with Bull.  Suddenly the Dom’s black and white attitude in a club that dealt with shades of grey made absolute sense.  “Bull…”

He watched a shudder wrack Bull’s body as the Dom stared at his hands lying palm up in his lap.  “She trusted me, put herself into my care and I failed her.”

Dorian felt a flare of something hot and bitter in his core at the thought of the most generous Dom he’d ever met tearing himself apart because his sub hadn’t been honest with him.  He couldn’t help but think about how adamant Bull had been about removing Dorian from the club rather than risk either he or his Dom being hurt by his reluctance to safe word and yet here Bull was, years later, shouldering that same blame himself.

“I hate her,” the words slipped out before he could even think to bite them back yet he knew they were true even as Bull’s head jerked up to pin Dorian with a stare.

“It wasn’t her fault…”

“Oh, so it was _my_ fault when I failed to say the words, but Lina was, what?  Too stupid?  Too trusting?  Too naïve?”

“It’s not the same, Dorian.  We had a contract…”

“And what was our agreement?  I may not have signed in blood but I agreed to sub for you, to learn from you…”

“I gave you what you wanted,” Bull growled, his hand reflexively coming up to stroke at his horn as he turned his head away again.

Want.  Need.  Need.  Want.  Dorian froze as the words chased each other around his mind, all of the missing pieces slotting into place like a puzzle he’d finally been able to look at from the other side.  The disconnect he’d felt.  Krem’s cryptic words to Bull.  The fact that Bull was always willing to work Dorian to climax but never sought it for himself…

“How long, Bull?”  Dorian barely recognized the words as his own, they sounded so bitter.

“How long did we last after that? I broke…”

“No, Bull.  How long have you been lying to every sub that you meet?  How long have you been pretending to trust them when really you only show them what you want them to see?”  Dorian broke off with a low cry as he realized maybe it was just him.  Maybe he was the only one who didn’t…

“What are you talking…hey, hey, calm down…”  Dorian wasn’t aware he was shaking until one of Bull’s huge hands reached out to cover both of his, his leg still bouncing up and down as he tried to convince himself this wasn’t about him.  “Dorian, come on, talk to me.”

Drawing in deep, shuddering breaths, Dorian force himself to calm down, his attention riveted on how small his hands felt tucked under Bull’s, at the realization that concern for Dorian had pulled Bull out of the corner he’d been backed into all night until he sat so snuggly next to Dorian he could feel the heat pulsing off Bull’s body.  When he was reasonably certain his voice wouldn’t crack, he tried again.  “How long has it been since you let someone know what you  _really_ need, Bull, not what you think they want to give you?”

He felt Bull stiffen beside him, heard his sharp gasp, then nothing else.  As tempting as it was to say more, Dorian knew that this was a realization Bull had to make for himself.  At least if he and Dorian were to have any sort of future.  Fasta vass, when had it become so important to Dorian that they have a future?

The tightening of Bull’s hand against his own shook him from his thoughts and he dared to glance up at the Dom only to find that Bull’s attention too was riveted on their hands.  “I didn’t realize,” Bull whispered, as much to himself as to Dorian.  “Since Lina I’ve poured everything I have into the club, told myself that giving a temporary sub what they wanted was what I was here for…”

“It can’t be a partnership if only one side’s needs are being met,” Dorian said gently, rolling his hand over beneath Bull’s so their palms slid together.

The only things softer than Bull’s gasp were his next words.  “What if I hurt you?”

“Well, I should hope you will,” Dorian chuckled wetly, his hand flexing beneath Bull’s.  “But more importantly I hope you trust me enough to know that I will tell you if it’s too much.  You say she trusted you but, Bull, if she had she would have known that you didn’t want to hurt her beyond her limits.  True trust means knowing that saying ‘enough’ doesn’t mean ‘I failed.’”

“I don’t think I deserve you,” Bull whispered, Dorian’s heart freezing in his chest only to thaw a moment later as he felt Bull slot their fingers together.  “But I want to.”

When Dorian dared to risk lifting his gaze to Bull’s he found that one grey eye so dark with emotion he found it hard to breathe past the knot in his throat.  “Bull…” he whispered brokenly, Bull’s free hand coming up to cradle his cheek as the Dom leaned closer and brushed his lips across Dorian’s, gentle as a whisper.

Pulling back, Bull examined Dorian’s features, his lips curled in a soft grin.  “I’m sorry, Dorian.  I didn’t realize but I should have…”

Dorian smiled back in return.  “And deny me the chance to be right?”

Bull’s bright laugh curled around Dorian, warm and comforting.  “Brat.”

“But am I yours?”  The question slipped out before he could think to stop it, bringing a flush to his cheeks that he tried to hide by dipping his head.

He should have known it was a waste of time to try,  Bull’s fingers immediately curling beneath his chin and tipping his head up again.  Bull’s voice when he spoke was husky with some emotion Dorian wasn’t certain he was ready to name.  “That really what you want?”

Rather than speaking, Dorian went with his instincts, his body slipping gracefully from the couch to kneel on the floor next to Bull’s feet.  “Dorian?”

Head bowed, he rested his forehead gently against Bull’s knee.  “Mark me, Sir.  Make me yours.”

“ _Dorian_ …”

“Please, Sir.  I need this.  I need to give this to you.  Need to know you really trust me to know my own limits.  I want to wear your marks for days and know that each one is there because you wanted… _needed_...to put it there.”

“Fuck, Dorian,” Bull muttered, his voice hoarse as he reached down to thread his trembling fingers through Dorian’s hair.  Time stretched out, the Dom quiet for so long Dorian began to think his silence was his answer.  Bracing himself for failure, he was startled when Bull finally whispered, “Safe word?”

“Maleficar,” Dorian spoke clearly, gasping when Bull’s fingers tightened in his hair, tugging his head back until he was forced to meet Bull’s eye.

“You’ll use it if you need to,” Bull ordered gruffly, but Dorian could see the trace of fear in his eye and that wouldn’t do.

Pulling against Bull’s grip he rubbed his cheek against Bull’s thigh.  “I promise… _Dominus_.”

Dorian felt the shudder that coursed through the huge Dom.  “Fuck, Dorian,” Bull growled, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath before continuing.  “Clothes off, you know where to put them.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian nodded, rolling to his feet and beginning to saunter towards the chair he normally left his clothes on only to yip a moment later when Bull’s hand smacked hard on his ass.

“Tease,” Bull chuckled from behind him.  “I need to step out for a few minutes, I expect you naked and kneeling when I return.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian responded crisply, waiting until he heard the door close behind Bull to grasp onto the back of the chair so tightly he feared snapping the wood, his legs threatening to fold beneath him.  Kaffas, had he really just given The Iron Bull carte blanche to do whatever he wanted to his body?  Dorian wasn’t certain he’d ever been so apprehensive…or so aroused.

Prying his fingers off the chair, it took him twice as long as it should have to unbutton his shirt with shaking fingers then had to fold it twice when he dropped it on the ground the first time.  “Venhedis, pull yourself together,” he hissed at himself, setting the shirt down on the chair before toeing off his shoes and placing them neatly beneath it.

By the time he had taken off his socks and unbuckled his belt his hands were growing steadier, the slight tremor to them now almost entirely expectation at the thought of Bull’s touch against his skin and the way Bull’s voice would go all deep and gravely when he was exceptionally pleased with Dorian, the sound wrapping around Dorian as firmly as an embrace.

Sighing softly, he shook his head, surprised to find that he’d drifted off for a moment and was still holding onto the ends of his belt.  Fasta vass, that’s all he needed, to still be wearing clothes when Bull returned.  Renewing his efforts to rid himself of them, he resisted the urge to palm his cock as he slid his pants off and quickly folded them, placing them under his shirt before removing his briefs, unsurprised to find them damp from the precome that was already beading.  Tucking the scrap of black material into his pants he looked around the office, uncertain where Bull had intended him to wait before deciding if the Dom had wanted him anywhere but right where he was he would have told him.

Kneeling for the second time that night, he made certain his back was ramrod straight, his ass centered over both feet and his hands lying palms up against his thighs before bowing his head.  He hadn’t been waiting long, his knees barely having time to sink comfortingly into the thick Antivan carpet before he heard the door open and close behind him then…silence.

As the minutes ticked by the carpet that had only moments ago felt plush began to itch instead, a single bead of sweat forming at his temple before plotting a slow, torturous path down his cheek to his jawline that had his hands itching to swipe it away.  Ears straining for any sound of Bull’s approach, Dorian’s traitorous mind began to whisper that perhaps it wasn’t Bull in the room at all.  Maybe Krem had been the one to enter, looking for Bull only to find Dorian’s bare form instead.  Even now, Krem could be looking him over, finding fault with the set of Dorian’s shoulders or the curl of his toes into the thick pile.  Perhaps there was no one at all, the door had simply been Dalish or Skinner popping their head in to talk to Bull then retreating just as quickly when it became obvious he wasn’t in the room.  It would only take the smallest tilt of his head to see…

No.  He knelt here because The Iron Bull willed it.  Who did or did not walk in the room mattered not.  Gritting his teeth, he forced a slow breath out his nose before inhaling again just as slowly, his eyes fixed on the spot six inches in front of him where the carpet ended and the dark wood floor reappeared.  More specifically, he focused on the thick thread that bound the edge of the carpet, each loop of rich cream wool tight against the one next to it, every one uniform.  You could tell everything about a rug’s craftsmanship by the way it was finished.  A vision of Bull laying out his pink ropes slipped into Dorian’s head, the careful way he had laid each one out, the precision with which he had tied each knot…

“I could get used to seeing you waiting for me like this.”

Dorian stiffened slightly at Bull’s softly spoken words, forcing himself to relax as he watched Bull’s bare feet come into view before him.   _Cheater_ , Dorian thought, realizing now why he hadn’t heard Bull’s approach.  His eyes were locked on Bull’s thick grey toes curling into the cream colored rug the way his own had been only minutes ago, then his view was interrupted by the large expanse of Bull’s black trousers pulling tight against his thighs as he squatted down in front of Dorian.

A single finger pushed at Dorian’s chin, encouraging him to look up and meet Bull’s gaze, the Dom searching his face carefully as he asked, “You sure you want to do this?”

There was no hesitation in Dorian’s response.  “My safe word is maleficar, Sir.”

A flicker of possessive pride flashed in Bull’s mercurial eye, his lips curling into a wicked grin.  “Follow.”

Dorian fell into step behind Bull, unsurprised when they stepped out of Bull’s office and turned to the left, making their way down the hall towards the storeroom where Bull had the huge St. Andrews cross placed before Dorian’s second session with him.  Stepping through the doorway into the room, Dorian stumbled to an awkward stop, barely avoiding slamming into the back of Bull when he paused unexpectedly.  The Dom turned to look at him with a wicked grin, challenge now flashing in his eye as he stepped to the side.  Dorian’s attention was pulled the brightly lit play area.  In addition to the ebony and gold cross, a matching spanking bench with black leather pads had been added to the room along with a large mahogany armoire that took up the back wall.  The heavy doors were open, a variety of crops and whips neatly arranged inside.

As if the selection of leather implements wasn’t daunting another, the single shelf within the cabinet held a variety of canes, both rattan and a darker wood Dorian suspected was yew.  Even a few birch switches in varying thicknesses occupied the shelf.  He took one instinctive step closer only to be stopped by Bull’s hand curling around the back of his neck.  Suppressing a shudder he looked up at the huge Dom who turned Dorian’s head until he was staring at the cross.  “I believe you belong there.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian whispered, moving closer and noticing that the leather restraints Bull had used the last time were already attached to the shackles at the four points of the cross.  Standing up on tiptoe Dorian was just able to curl his fingertips around the top edge of the cross, the finely stained wood slipping smoothly beneath his fingertips.  Even anticipating Bull’s touch he was startled slightly when Bull’s hand settled first at the base of his spine.  Firm fingers traced a path up his back and across the ridge of his shoulder, cupping it for a moment before continuing on up his arm to his wrist which Bull grasped firmly in one hand as he secured the leather around it with the other, slipping the leather through the gold buckle tight enough to ensure that there would be no slipping.

Allowing his hand to return to its spot at the curve of Dorian’s spine, Bull’s breath was hot against Dorian’s ear as he whispered, “Color?”

“Green.”

“Good,” Bull purred, his fingers starting the slow slide up Dorian’s back to his other wrist and buckling the restraint just as tightly as the first had been before settling both his hands on Dorian’s hips.  “You might have noticed the restraints are tighter this time, I don’t want to take a chance of you moving at the wrong time and hurting yourself,” Bull’s grip tightened, his index fingers sliding possessively along the rise of Dorian’s hips before curling his claws into the sensitive skin, drawing a sharp gasp from Dorian.  “That means if you’re a naughty sub like last time and insist on rutting on my cross I’m going to have to secure your waist also.  Understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” Dorian stammered, feeling his cheeks flush at the reminder of just how out of his head he’d been the last time Bull had him here.  Even now he could remember how good the cold wood had felt against his engorged cock and how Bull’s deep growl of disapproval had cut through him, making him stop rather than disappoint the Dom.

“Good boy,” Bull muttered, his hands sliding into the hollow of Dorian’s hips, fingers just inches away from his cock, already half hard and twitching, before slipping away and working their way down his leg.  The position of the ankle restraints this time had him fully up on his toes, a position Dorian knew would begin to ache before long and yet nothing in Bull’s demeanor said he had any intention of this being a short session.   _It would seem that The Iron Bull was truly going to put him through his paces tonight._ The thought alone sent a shiver of excitement through Dorian as Bull’s hands reached his other ankle, tugging against it until Dorian shifted into the right spot for him to buckle the last cuff just as tight as the prior three had been.

When Bull stood and stepped in front of him, Dorian felt another shiver course through him, this time heavily laced with trepidation.  There was nothing soft about the man who stood before him now, this Bull was every inch a Dom looking at the sub he expected to obey his every command.  “I’m going to hurt you tonight,” Bull said gravely, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his cuffs.  “I don’t expect you to be silent and I won’t think less of you if you beg me to stop but unless I hear your safe word I will continue until that gorgeous body of yours bears the marks I want on it.  Do you understand?”

Venhedis, Dorian was thankful Bull had shackled him before giving that little speech or he feared he’d be a puddle on the floor right now.  Bull’s eyebrow arched and Dorian realized he hadn’t yet answered.  Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat he whispered, “Yes, Dominus.”

Bull’s eye flared again with a possessive fire, his fingers working at the buttons of his shirt now.  “Keep that up and I’m liable to forget about the stripes in favor of burying my cock up your ass.”

Dorian moaned, the image of Bull finally taking him as he’d been expecting him to for weeks enough to send his cock soaring past interested right to achingly hard.  His words escaped as a whimper.  “Yes, please…”

“Eager slut,” Bull chuckled, shrugging out of his dress shirt and giving Dorian a view of his broad, muscled chest as he stepped closer, his fingers pinching the sides of Dorian’s jaw almost painfully.  Leaning closer, Bull nipped at his earlobe and whispered, “Let’s see if you’re still as interested once you feel the cane.”

Fasta vass.  Another moan slipped past Dorian’s lips, his muscles going limp in the restraints.  Another chuckle from the Dom and Bull was pulling back, his fingers sliding down the column of Dorian’s throat and across his shoulder as he made his way behind him and then it was just Dorian’s imagination and what little bit of noise Bull made as he selected his starting point.

Anticipation built as time stretched on, Dorian’s muscles tightening despite knowing he should relax, his breathing becoming rapid and shallow as he waited for the first strike.  He knew instinctively that Bull wouldn’t start with the cane, but he doubted he’d be feeling the suede flogger today either.  The problem was that even eliminating those two options left a plethora of choices for Bull to make, everything from…

“Color?”  The sharply barked word startled Dorian from his thoughts, his limbs instinctively trying to contract only to find no give in the restraints Bull had fastened.

Reminding himself of the Dom’s order to remain still, Dorian drew in a steadying breath and responded.  “Green, Sir.”

Bull’s dark chuckle echoed through the room.  “Good, Iet’s see if we can test that abit.”

There was no pause between Bull’s final word and the smack of the flogger landing on Dorian’s shoulder, the leather strands firm enough to sting as they kissed his flesh and were pulled away so that the matching spot on his other shoulder could receive the same treatment.  Unlike Bull’s sensual flogging a few weeks ago, there was nothing gentle or slow about this one, strikes landing with military precision along Dorian’s shoulders and back before continuing down to light up his ass.  By the time Bull had worked his way back up to his shoulders again, Dorian was panting hard, a fine sheen of sweat covering his heated flesh.

Bull worked without comment or pause, each thud of the flogger falling exactly perfectly next to the one before it.  No bit of skin was overlapped...or ignored..  Over and over until Dorian had lost track of whether the strikes were on his shoulder, his ass or his spine, all that mattered was the four inch strip currently stinging.  Slowly everything faded away except the feel of the flogger against his skin, the initial thud quickly paling before the inevitable pain, the sweat-slicked leather sliding away as his mind projected which piece of skin would feel the next attack.

Struggling not to tense up when the flogger moved away, he focused on the next bit of skin to be struck only to cry out when instead, it remained untouched.  The pain didn’t matter.  The heat and the throbbing and the sting didn’t matter.  Only the repetition, only the pattern he knew to be true and then it wasn’t…

“Hush…”  Dorian flinched as the softly spoken word echoed like a shout.  He sobbed as Bull’s fingers trailed lightly down his spine, the change in sensation enough to draw tears to his eyes.

“Shhhhh, you’ve been so good, baby, but I need you here with me,” Bull continued, his fingers continuing to run increasingly firm trails up and down Dorian’s spine.  “I need a color, Dorian.”

Color?  Hummmm, Dorian knew a lot of colors.  Silver like Bull’s expressive eye.  Grey like the fingers that were currently tracing the welts Dorian knew must be bright red on his ass.  Black like the leather that currently held him aloft, gold shackles twinkling…

“Ok, I think we’re done,” Bull whispered, his tone somewhere between amused and concerned as he stepped closer so that his body pressed firmly against Dorian’s.  Dorian whimpered quietly as Bull’s wool trousers pulled across the welts on his ass, though the press of Bull’s heated skin against his back felt amazing.

It wasn’t until Bull reached for the restraint that Dorian came back to himself enough to remember why he was here…what they were doing.  “Green.  Green, Sir.  All green.”

Bull froze, his fingers caught on the buckle as he let out a sigh.  “Dorian…”

“Please, Bull…”  Dorian gasped as he realized what he’d said, immediately correcting himself.  “Sir, I mean please, Sir…”

“Quiet,” Bull growled, his hand slipping from the cuff to cup Dorian’s chin roughly and turn his head so he could look in his eyes.  Despite the anger in his voice, there was nothing but concern in Bull’s eye as he studied Dorian carefully, gauging his ability to continue.  Dorian knew when he saw Bull’s expression harden that he had passed.  “Apparently I have been too lax with you if you think calling your Master by his first name is acceptable in a scene.”

“No…”

“ _Quiet!_ ” Bull roared, his expression making Dorian shake even though he knew he could end this with a single word.  With a shove he released Dorian’s chin, making him face forward again.  “When I want you to speak I’ll ask for it.  For now you’ll stay quiet and take the punishment I give you.”

_Yes, Dominus._  The words quivered on the tip of Dorian’s tongue but he bit them back.  He might want to feel the sting of the cane but that didn’t mean he’d lost all reason.  Telling himself to relax, that it would hurt less, Dorian tried to ignore the swoosh of air behind him that meant Bull was selecting his implement.  His legs quivered, muscles taxed too long as he stood on tiptoe threatening to fail even as his fingertips tried to dig grooves into the edge of the cross.

There was no warning, no swoosh or chuckle or ‘brace yourself’ called, just the hard crash of the cane against the center of his buttocks, the pain instant and undeniable as Dorian cried out in shock.  Gasping, he was unprepared for the second swat that came in from a low swing, catching the bottom of his ass right where it met with his thighs.  His muscles locked up like he’d been struck by lightning, his breath stalling in his lungs as it tried to both leave in a gasp and be inhaled in shock.

_Maleficar._  The word formed on his lips, ready to break free with the next swat except that the next one was merely a tap by comparison, a trio of them actually, connected by a fluttering roll of the cane against his skin.  His lungs burning, he dared to draw in a breath, the searing pain of the first two strikes just beginning to ebb when again the cane smashed down so hard against the curve of his ass he swore he felt it bury itself in his skin.  Crying out, he felt the first tear roll down his cheek as again the initial sting morphed into a blazing pain that gave the illusion that the crop was still against his body.

Unlike with the flogger, this time there was no rhyme or reason to the blows that rained down on his ass, a light teasing tap might be followed with a swipe of the cane across his skin that was less a blow than a caress or it might be just the precursor to a swing that would again drive the breath from Dorian’s lungs on a wet cry.

Forced by the randomness of the strikes to give up looking for a pattern, Dorian began to focus on the hit itself, the way the cane would curl into his flesh, the impact traveling through his core right to his cock.  The way that a strike to the bottom of his cheeks would send shockwaves through him that made his ass clench, his cock hardening as his nerves and his prostate responded like he’d been stroked rather than beaten.

His cries now were mixed, the lighter taps drawing mews of arousal and need while the harder strikes had him whimpering in agony.  “Please, please, please…” he muttered, uncertain of what exactly he was asking for, his head hanging heavy between his shoulders.  He lost track of time, held in a place between torture and salvation, unable to find enough pleasure to come or enough pain to distract him from the ever increasing need to climax.

And then, just as he was certain he would lose what little remained of his mind, he felt Bull behind him, one arm curling around Dorian’s chest and holding him tightly to him while his other hand found Dorian’s cock.  The first stroke of Bull’s lubed hand down his aching cock drew a shudder down Dorian’s spine and a whimper from his lips.

“Shhhh, that’s it baby, so good, let me take care of you,” Bull purred, his hand tightening as he stroked up to the tip before sliding back down again.  “Fuck, never seen anything as beautiful.  So good for me…”

Bull’s words washed over Dorian like a balm, his hips thrusting minutely into Bull’s fist before grinding back against Bull’s groin and feeling the pulsing hard outline of Bull’s cock.  “Please…”

“I know, I know, I’ve got you,” Bull continued, his strokes speeding up as he placed soft kisses to the curve of Dorian’s neck.

“No, stop,” Dorian muttered, shaking his head as he ground back against Bull once more, ignoring the sharp flare of pain from from his doubtlessly red ass in an attempt to make his desires known.

Bull froze, even his breathing paused, the only motion Dorian could feel the rapid beating of the Dom’s heart against his back.  Releasing Dorian’s cock, Bull took a step back, his voice a sorrowful tremble.  “Sorry, I thought…”

Dorian whined, he wanted _more_ not less.  More touch, more skin, more _Bull_.  Pulling himself out of the place where sensation ruled, Dorian struggled to make his mind work, to listen to Bull’s words and he knew then that Bull had misinterpreted, had thought that _he’d_ done something wrong.  “No, please,” Dorian whispered, pushing back, needing Bull to understand..  “Want you to fuck me…please, Sir…need…”

There was a split second when Bull held where he was then, almost before Dorian had time to register Bull’s low, possessive growl, the Dom had him pinned against the cross.  Bull’s rock hard cock rubbed up the cleft of his ass, drawing a low moan from Dorian, pain and need once again warring for supremacy.  “This what you want?” Bull rumbled, his voice low and deep in Dorian’s ear.

“Yes, please, Sir…”

Bull stilled against Dorian, his hand stroking gently down the side of Dorian’s face before clasping his chin firmly and turning Dorian’s head towards him once more.  “Guess you have a decision to make then.  Because you can either come or you can get fucked…the choice is yours.”

Dorian moaned, his eyes shutting as he took in Bull’s words.  His cock was screaming at him to finish it, let Bull wrap is hand around him again and stroke him until he came but the rest of him…

Opening his eyes, Dorian nodded slightly and whispered, “I’m yours, Dominus.  Yours to mark, yours to use.  Fuck me, please…”

Bull’s silver eye flared before narrowing, a deep growl emanating from his lungs that Dorian felt in his own chest.  Then, in a flurry of movement, Bull unshackled both of Dorian’s wrists without even bothering to unbuckle the cuffs.  Startled and confused about what he’d done wrong, Dorian whimpered, “Please…Sir…I’m sorry…please…don’t…I only…”

“Hey, hey, shhhhh, it’s fine.  Calm down,” Bull purred, his arms circling around Dorian’s arms and curling against his chest, hugging him tightly.  “Fuck, so damn sweet…how could I say no?  I’m just going to move you…I’m big and you’re worn and I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to.”

“Don’t care,” Dorian muttered defiantly, leaning his head back to nuzzle against the side of Bull’s face.

The Dom just chuckled.  “I know you don’t, Big Guy, that’s my job right now.  Now hold still one minute and let me get your legs free.”

Dorian’s pout only gained him a swat to his ass that had him shrieking as Bull snickered and held him up with one arm while he reached down and freed the shackle on first one ankle then the other.  Sweeping Dorian up in a bridal carry, Bull ignored Dorian’s soft gasp of relief as the pressure on his legs was removed in favor of pressing a kiss to Dorian’s parted lips.  “Better?” Bull teased, carrying him towards the spanking bench before letting Dorian’s feet go, and shifting his support to Dorian’s hips to help him center himself on the bench.

Moaning as his cock slid along the leather pad supporting his body, Dorian yipped as Bull once again crashed his huge palm down on his exposed ass.  “None of that,” the Dom growled, tugging on Dorian’s hips until only his chest and abdomen rested against the pad.

He knew he must look obscene, his ass jutting out behind the bench, the padded rests for his legs ensuring that his cheeks were spread, his hole exposed as he fought the urge to grind forward against the end of the bench in the hopes of getting some friction to his aching cock.  “Please, Sir,” Dorian whispered, his ears picking up the snap of plastic a second before a thick stream of cold lube hit his cleft and began sliding down.

Bull’s fingers pressing at his perineum had Dorian biting back a moan, the Dom’s thick index finger tracing upward to catch the lube and spread it around Dorian’s hole.  “That what you want?” Bull growled, his finger pressing inward, past the tight ring of muscle until he was buried to the second knuckle inside Dorian’s warm heat.

Eyes fluttering shut, Dorian’s entire body shuddered as Bull’s finger grazed his prostate before withdrawing and sliding back in again.  “Please…”

“Hummmm,” Bull muttered, his finger continuing to slide torturously slow in and out of Dorian’s ass.  “You’re gonna have to be a little clearer, baby.  Please more?  Please faster?  Please stop?”

Dorian howled as Bull’s last words were accompanied by him pulling all the way out of Dorian, his finger resting against his hole without moving.  Beyond thought, Dorian shoved back, intending to impale himself only to end up with another hard swat against his already bruised hip.

“Your words, Dorian,” Bull growled, his hand curling bitingly around the hip he’d just smacked, ensuring Dorian would be finding no pleasure of his own.

“Don’t stop…please…need…want…Dominus…please… _more_ …”

“There you go,” Bull chuckled, his fingers sliding up and down Dorian’s crack before pushing two deep inside.

Dorian moaned in pleasure, Bull’s thick fingers scissoring to stretch him as they moved back and forth, now stroking his prostate on every thrust.  If this was what words got him… “Faster, Sir, please…”

“Come on my bench and this is all over,” Bull growled, his fingers tightening against Dorian’s hip before letting him go so he could drip more lube down Dorian’s ass, coating a third finger before sliding it in to join the first two.

“Dominus!” Dorian shrieked, the burn of the stretch making him pant even as Bull’s fingers curling around his prostate made him moan.  

“That’s it, let me in,” Bull purred, sliding his long fingers into Dorian again, scissoring them and twisting his wrist as he pulled them out again.

Lost in a haze of sensation, of pain where Bull’s hand was once again curled around his hip, his thumb idly stroking over the welts that covered Dorian’s ass, of pleasure where Bull’s fingers continued to stroke Dorian’s prostate at every thrust, of need where his cock strained, dripping precome, his balls tight against his body, Dorian threatened to tear apart when it all just stopped.  Bull’s fingers pulled out of him, his hand releasing its punishing grip on Dorian’s hip.  “Please, no, please, Sir,” Dorian pleaded, the words tumbling unbidden from his lips.

“Ok, baby, ok,” Bull soothed, his two, now clean and dry, hands sliding over the globes of Dorian’s ass.  A startled moan fell from Dorian’s lips as Bull pulled his cheeks even further apart before slotting his length in between them, letting Dorian feel the full size of The Iron Bull’s cock for the first time without anything between them but a condom.  “Feel that, feel how hard I am for you…not sure how long I’m gonna last once I get you around me…”

Dorian’s whimper of need was swallowed on a gasp as the head of Bull’s cock pressed against his ass, the tight ring of muscle reluctant to yield even with Bull’s prepping.  “Shhhh, relax,” Bull encouraged, one hand sliding soothingly up and down Dorian’s spine.  “That’s it, let me in, gonna make you feel so damn good…”

Bull’s words washed over Dorian, his muscles relaxing in response to the Dom’s touch as Bull thrust gently against him, the tip of his cock pushing against Dorian’s hole again and again until finally it slipped in with a soft pop.  Gasping at the stretch, far beyond what Bull’s three fingers had given him, Dorian panted as Bull slowly began working himself in, a steady string of praise falling from the Dom’s lips.  “Fuck, so damn sweet…that’s it baby…so tight…so good for me…that’s right, let me take you…make you mine…”

Dorian latched on to the last thought, tears welling in his eyes not from the pain but from the desire for it to be true.  Moaning as Bull finally settled ball’s deep inside him, reaching places no one else had ever touched, Dorian whispered the only thing he could.  “ _Please…_ ”

Expecting Bull to fuck him hard and fast, Dorian was surprised to feel Bull’s body drape over his, the Dom’s lips finding the sensitive spot between his shoulder blades and pressing a kiss to the skin there.  “Could fucking stay here forever,” Bull whispered, his breath hot against Dorian’s skin as he began to withdraw, pulling back until only the crown was still buried inside Dorian’s warmth before thrusting back in just as slowly.

Dorian’s fingers curled around the front of the bench, his muscles tensing as Bull continued to slowly fuck him while pressing soft kisses along the side of his neck and across his shoulders.  Frustrated at the slow pace, Dorian thrust back, trying to encourage Bull to speed up only to feel Bull’s teeth clasp onto the tender skin at the curve of his neck, Bull’s fingers sliding down to grasp his hips tightly again, his claws pressing threateningly into his skin.  “Mine,” Bull growled as he released Dorian’s throat and straightened.  “Mine to take,” he continued, thrusting so hard that he drove the air from Dorian’s lungs..

“Mine…to…fuck,” Bull bit out, each word followed by another thrust that Dorian felt all the way into his chest.

“Yes,” he managed to mutter, his approval apparently all Bull was waiting for as he began to pound into Dorian’s ass fast and deep, his hands pulling Dorian back onto his cock as much as he thrust into him.

“So…fucking…tight,” Bull muttered, his cock battering Dorian’s prostate and making him wail, Dorian’s own cock leaking a steady stream of precome as he struggled not to come.

“Please, Sir, going to, need to…”

“You…will…NOT…come,” Bull grunted, each word punctuated by a slap of his palm against Dorian’s ass that had him screaming.

Kaffas, he had to…  “Sir…”

“No,” Bull snarled, pounding so hard into Dorian he felt the bench slip beneath him.

Fuck, he didn’t want to disappoint Bull but…  “ _Dominus_ ,” he wailed.

“I…said… _no_.”

His own release threatening, Dorian panted as he tried to obey.  “ _Sir…_ ”

“ _Mine!_ ” Bull bellowed, thrusting once more into Dorian and stilling as he came, small jerks accompanying each pulse of come as it filled the condom.

Dorian’s over-sensitized body took Bull’s orgasm as his own, his mind whiting out as Bull throbbed inside him, the warm flood of Bull’s release plunging him so deep into subspace he forgot he hadn’t actually come…

 

 

“You back with me, gorgeous?”

_Mmmmmm_ , Dorian sighed into the warmth surrounding him, liking the deep voice that was speaking even if he didn’t quite want to think about the words yet.  Safe and secure, he floated along even as he felt a soft rumbling beneath him.

“Come on, handsome.  Been too long since I saw those beautiful grey eyes of yours…”

Hummmm, handsome.  He could get used to that.  Been a long time since someone called him…

The brush of smooth skin against his cheek had Dorian purring and chasing the feeling, his mind slowly beginning to right itself as he processed the other words that had been spoken.  Bull…it had to be Bull…wanted him to…

With a long, slow sigh, Dorian blinked his eyes open, finding himself peering up into Bull’s familiar face, that one silver orb echoing the Dom’s amusement.

“Well, there you are, sleeping beauty,” Bull whispered, leaning to press a soft kiss to Dorian’s forehead.

“Think…” Dorian started, stopping to swallow hard against his hoarse throat before continuing, “think you’re supposed to kiss me _before_ I wake up.”

Bull chuckled, the same rumbling sound that had reached out to Dorian as he floated in subspace.  “I’ll work on that in the future.”

“Hummm, see that you do,” Dorian whispered tiredly, letting his head fall against Bull’s shoulder.  Yes, that was better.

Scowling as Bull shifted beneath him, Dorian grabbed for his neck, only belatedly realizing they were back in Bull’s office, cuddled up together on one of the couches, Bull’s legs spread so that he could support Dorian without putting pressure against his undoubtedly bruised ass.  “Cushions shouldn’t move,” he muttered, slapping at Bull’s neck even as the Dom settled back into his previous spot, holding up a bottle of water as a peace offering.

Dorian told himself it was Bull’s own fault for wearing him out when he allowed the Dom to raise the bottle to his lips and feed him several small sips, his abused throat soaking up the moisture like a sponge.  “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice more his own, when Bull finally pulled the almost empty bottle away.

Raising the bottle to his own mouth, Bull gulped down the remaining liquid before tossing the bottle in the direction of the table.  “No, thank you,” he said seriously, the back of his hand caressing down Dorian’s cheek.  “I’ve never had a sweeter sub.”

Dorian snorted.  “Not sure anyone has ever called me that before.”

Bull scowled and shook Dorian slightly.  “Then they’re idiots.  You took everything I had to give you and made it your own, held back your own pleasure because I wanted it, gave me everything you had to give without hesitation...”

Dorian flushed at Bull’s praise, his own mind recalling that moment after the second swat of the cane.  “I almost safe worded,” he admitted, then, feeling Bull tense beneath him, hurried to add, “then you did that thing with the cane…I don’t know, you rolled it and tapped it so lightly it fucking lit up everything in me.”

Bull’s bark of laughter held traces of doubt.  “Ah, enjoyed that bit did you?”

Dorian fought to get an arm free of the blankets he was swaddled in, reaching up to cup Bull’s cheek as the Dom had done to him earlier, making Bull meet his gaze before saying, “I enjoyed all of it Bull, every last da…well every last minute of it.”

“Nice save,” Bull chuckled, his laugh coming freer this time.  “Gotta admit I’m kinda glad you feel that way,” he continued, his expression sobering until Dorian’s smile also slipped away under the intensity of the moment.  “Cause I’m not sure I can let you go.  I mean unless you want…”

Dorian slid his hand from Bull’s cheek up to his horn, wrangling the larger man down so he could press a firm kiss to his lips before leaning back and looking Bull in the eye.  “I like the sound of that,” he admitted, his lips curling into a soft grin.  “And for the record, I'm quite sure you’ve become as important to me as air.”

Bull’s answering grin was blinding as Dorian found himself lifted and resettled so his knees fell on either side of Bull’s thighs.  Before he could think to protest the manhandling, Bull’s hands settled on both of his cheeks, pulling him closer, Bull’s breath hot against his lips as the Dom whispered, “Care to test that theory?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has read, kudo'd and/or commented on this fic! While the story may have leapt into my brain and refused to leave, seeing all of you enjoy it is what keeps me posting. 
> 
> And as always, my unending thanks and love to [Dichotomous Dragon](http://dichotomous-dragon.tumblr.com/) for betaing this beast and for always being up for brainstorming whatever AU pops into my head...all the love, girlie!


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